Can't Sleep
by SkinnyLittleLesbian
Summary: Emma has grown accustomed sleeping with Regina nearby. When they return to Storybrooke she can't sleep with Regina back at the manor.
1. Chapter 1

Emma flopped onto her back. This was officially ridiculous, she thought. Three nights in a row, she hadn't been able to sleep easily. The night before she'd finally fallen into an exhausted slumber – but she'd woken up after two hours and an incredibly terrifying nightmare. She felt like she were going crazy. She stared at the ceiling trying to lull herself into some form of rest – but the next thing she knew, Snow was knocking on her door to wake her for the day.

"I'm already up," Emma growled.

Snow pushed the door open and frowned. "What's with the tone?"

"Sorry."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"What's 'it'?"

Snow flipped her hands. "I don't know. Why you're upset first thing in the morning? It."

"I'm not upset." But even as she spoke, Emma realized she sounded like a whiny child. She let out a deep sigh and shrugged. "I just haven't been sleeping."

"When did this start?" The look of concern on Snow's face convinced Emma to try and get some good advice out of the woman who wanted so badly to be her mother.

"When we got back from Neverland."

"So what changed?"

"I don't know!" Emma threw her hands up. "I slept fine on the island."

"Is your bed too soft?"

"No, Regina made us a-" Emma cut herself. She and Regina had shared a bedroll at times to keep warm, and the brunette had used magic to make things more comfortable for them both. This bed was no less cushioned than their bed on the island. The only difference was that she was now alone.

"Regina?"

"I need to go." Emma rolled out of bed. "It's an experiment."

"…Okay…" Snow watched her hurry past and shook her head slowly. Kids, she thought.

Emma practically sprinted the distance to Regina's home. The Mifflin manor was lit up – which meant both Henry and Regina were still home. She pounded on the front door until Regina answered.

"Ms. Swan, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I need you to sleep with me.?

Regina stared at her, mouth slightly agape. "Care to rephrase that?"

"Like in the same bed. It's an experiment."

"I will not be some science project, Ms. Swan." Regina backed away, ready to shut the door. Her feelings were not to be trifled with, she thought.

Emma caught the door before it could close. "I'm not sleeping, Regina. Not since we got back and I don't get to sleep with you. My brain is literally turning to mush, I can just feel it. So please. For the sake of my sanity, let me sleep in your bed. Damn it."

"Now?"

"That would be awesome, but you're busy. I get it. I'll come back later. Please."

Regina gestured for her to enter. "Let me send Henry to school, and then we'll discuss our options."

#

Emma swallowed nervously as Regina slipped beneath the covers. In the abstract, this was a fantastic idea. In actuality, Regina was a very imposing, very sensual, very demanding… the list of adjectives trailed off in Emma's mind. There was no clear way to define just how out of her depth she felt when it came to the other woman – who was now staring at her as if she were dumb.

"Ms. Swan? Are you going to stand there all day? I do have better things I could be doing with my time."

"Sorry!" Emma approached the bed, apprehension settling in her stomach. This might not work, she thought, and she might be wasting Regina's time. She might be embarrassing herself entirely, and all of it on a whim. Still, Regina was expecting her to follow through, so she clambered awkwardly into bed and set her head on the pillow. "Can I…?"

"What?"

"Can I hold you?"

"If you must."

Emma's arm slung quickly over Regina's waist and tugged the brunette against her. Regina's rear nested neatly against her groin, and she tried to ignore the sensation. Already she could feel her eyelids getting heavy, but she mustered a final line of conversation.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

"A law enforcement officer too tired to function? Who has a gun? I'm doing this for the safety of my town."

"You could just take my weapon away."

"Do you want to sleep alone?"

Emma shook her head drowsily. "You smell nice."

"Ms. Swan."

But Emma had slipped beyond the realms of communication. Her lips brushed against the nape of Regina's neck as she snoozed and Regina allowed herself a fierce blush while nobody was around to see it. There was perhaps more to this arrangement than she was letting on, she thought, but Emma didn't need to know that.

#

Regina inhaled slowly, enjoying the aroma that was so uniquely Emma. She'd grown used to the scent after sharing a bedroll, and found that she missed smelling it every morning. She couldn't define what it smelled like – and she had spent hours puzzling over it – but in the end she determined it just smelled like home. She glanced down at the sleeping blonde and decided to let Emma rest undisturbed.

For someone who had grown up completely separate from the town and its inhabitants, Emma put in a great deal of effort toward keeping things running smoothly. She deserved a break, especially when the alternative included adding additional layers to the bags lingering under her eyes. Regina moved slowly and ran her fingers through Emma's hair.

Besides, she thought, she didn't often get time to look at the other woman, or touch her freely. The desire to do both these things had only been growing, and this was the perfect opportunity to sate her appetite. She trailed her fingers down Emma's arms, pausing momentarily to admire the defined musculature, and then brought her hand up to cup Emma's cheek.

How she hated that her worst enemy had produced the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, she'd never know. But the fact remained – Emma stole her breath away. The thought was minutely terrifying. She hadn't trusted anyone with her heart since Daniel, yet somehow Emma had taken it from her without her even noticing. She doubted Emma was even aware of her inclinations, and she planned to keep it that way.

Things were safer that way. Emma could return to her repulsive parents, and Regina could continue co-parenting and yearning from a distance. There was no way she would ever put her feelings on the line for anyone ever again. Fool me once, she thought, and never again.

#

"Ms. Swan, I have to get up."

Emma stirred, lifting her head from its oh-so-comfortable pillow. "Hm?"

"I have to get up."

"No, you don't." Emma clung tighter to the brunette and closed her eyes once more. "Little longer?"

"You pressing on my bladder isn't making that more likely," Regina retorted. She extricated herself from Emma's octopus grip. "I'll be back."

Without Regina in her arms, Emma flopped onto her back and tried desperately to recapture the deep sleep she had just been enjoying. But it's not the same. There was no warm body pressed against her, no steady heart beat thudding near her ear. Regina Mills was an addiction, she thought, and she'd just taken her first hit. The need for more thrummed through her veins, but she fought it. This was an experiment, she reminded herself. Regina had only committed to one afternoon of napping.

She groaned at the very thought of having to return to Snow's apartment that night. Her bed just wouldn't be enough. She'd no doubt spend the first few hours staring at the ceiling, contemplating her existence, and somewhere around three a.m., she'd probably sniffle a little over how out of control her life had become. She wasn't looking forward to how tired she'd be in the morning.

Twisting her head, she buried her nose in the pillow and let Regina's scent calm her back down. It was easy to get overwhelmed, she thought, when she had no viable anchor in town. She was adrift in her new responsibilities, and the tides were pulling her in too many different directions.

"Are you quite alright?"

"Mm." Emma pushed the lump in her throat down. She would enjoy this moment while it lasted, and thank Regina for allowing her at least a few hours of excellent rest. The moment Regina was back in bed, Emma curled around her and refused to let go.

#

"May I ask you a question?"

Emma had been drifting on the fringes of sleep, but willingly opened her eyes fully at Regina's whispered question. Regina watched her cautiously, as if she were some sort of mythical creature that had magically appeared in the brunette's bed. Emma wasn't sure what was prompting such a tentative look, but she brushed the curiosity away with a yawn.

"What?"

"What is your relationship with Baelfire?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "He's an idiot. A big, stupid, loveable idiot."

Regina stiffened under her. "I see."

"I'm not saying I'm in love with him," Emma responded – though why she felt the need to clarify that particular point was beyond her understanding. "I'm just saying that what we had was really important to me. I don't think I'll ever really forgive him for what happened. That's awful, isn't it? I'm the true love baby of Snow White and Prince Charming, and I can't find it in my heart to forgive a guy who made a mistake twelve years ago."

"It's understandable." Regina's tone was muted and she kept her eyes averted. Don't be stupid, she warned herself. Simply because Baelfire wasn't a romantic fixture in the blonde's life didn't mean advances from her would be welcomed. All this cuddling, she concluded, had addled her brain. When Emma left, she would be able to think clearly. Her heart clenched as she realized that Emma would indeed be leaving sooner or later – and she had no good reason to make the blonde stay.

"Why?"

"Idle curiosity," she lied. "Forget I brought the matter up."

Emma watched her a moment longer before settling back in. She had learned early on that there was much more at play in Regina's words than the plain meaning of the words. Still, she had no idea if Regina was genuinely curious due to personal reasons, or because of the worry that Neal might somehow take Henry.

#

When Emma's breathing evened out, Regina relaxed. She had been worried that her questions might have prompted Emma to think things through – but once again she had overestimated Emma's capacity for deep thought. She had no doubt that Emma was intelligent, in her own way, but she didn't think the woman actually reasoned through her actions. Though she would never verbalize the idea, she imagined them to be the perfect sort of pair. She was thoughtful and could strategize, while Emma had strength of heart and body. They balanced one another.

"Would you ever consider it?" She murmured her words as she stroked the length of Emma's back. "I can't give you much. I took your family from you when you were young, and resisted giving it back. I acted out against you. I actively sought to ruin your reputation. I poisoned our son. I'm not good, Ms. Swan. You shouldn't cling to me as you sleep – you ought to fear for your life and your happiness."

Regina leaned down slowly, bending her chin into her sternum, and kissed the top of Emma's head. Just one kiss, she reasoned, wouldn't be damning. Emma was asleep would be none the wiser. Except when she kissed Emma's hair, she was suddenly struck by the crazy desire to kiss the other woman's face – Emma's nose, perhaps, or her cheeks – or, if she were truly daring, the other woman's lips.

She firmed her resolve. Emma was here to sleep, she chastised herself, not get molested while unconscious. She settled back against the pillow, closed her eyes, and tried to think of anything but the woman currently using her breasts as a pillow. Emma mumbled nonsensically in her sleep and Regina groaned. Doing the blonde a favor had suddenly evolved into some new form of torture.


	2. Chapter 2

"Regina?"

Regina sighed. "Yes?"

"Thank you for doing this for me."

"I suppose it is my responsibility as mayor-"

"I'm not thanking the mayor. I'm thanking you," Emma clarified.

The statement caught Regina off guard. It was such a rare occurrence that someone recognized that she wasn't her position. The people who barged through her office day in and day out treated her as a dumpster for their hateful opinions and self-entitled tirades. Before the curse, she was the Queen, and before that she was her mother's pawn. Daniel had recognized her as Regina, and now to hear Emma claiming the same – she had trouble breathing.

"Your thanks are not necessary."

"So? I'm gonna give 'em anyway." Emma sighed. "I feel so much more rested – but I could totally sleep forever if you let me… Was there something you had to get to today?"

"I already alerted my secretary that I wouldn't be in today. Sleep as long as you need."

"Y'know, Regina, you can really be a good person when you put your mind to it." Emma snuggled back down. "And damn if you don't have a comfy bed."

"You've barely touched the bed all day," Regina teased. Color rose in her cheeks as she realized how easy the banter between them was. She shouldn't be that at ease.

"Well, you're soft…" Emma trailed off. "I can move if-"

"No."

They stared warily at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking. Emma set her head back down.

"When does Henry get home?"

"He's got basketball after school today."

"Really? Kid's got skills?"

"Not particularly," Regina stated. "But he tries his hardest."

"You got him the right sort of kicks, right?"

"Kicks?"

"Sneakers," Emma amended. "Shoes totally make a big difference in the game."

"I'll look into it, if you insist."

Emma cleared her throat. "I could help you look, if you want."

#

Regina was silent for several minutes. Unknowingly she had tightened her grasp on Emma's back, but Emma made no comment. She stared up at Regina and waited patiently for an answer – aware that Regina rarely asked for, or received help. Indeed, since Emma had arrived, she'd witnessed the woman asking for help perhaps three times. Regina had an uncanny ability to order others about, but nobody volunteered their services when she needed them.

"I will ask him," Regina finally responded. "However, I think this may be a passing phase."

"Oh?"

"He mentioned the team practices next to the cheerleaders," Regina added. "I happen to know that Paige is one of the junior varsity members. He'd be mortified if he knew I knew, so please keep this information to yourself. I do hope you haven't inherited your mother's predisposition for secret-spilling."

Emma snorted. "I got her chin – but I think that's about all."

"It pains me to speak well of her," Regina gritted out, "however, I do recognize that she fights fiercely for what she believes in and loves. I do believe you got that as well."

"She… Well, she doesn't fight for me. She never did," Emma's voice mirrored how she felt. It was stupid, she thought, to confide in Regina about this sort of thing, but it just felt like an intimate moment. "I guess that means she doesn't love me."

Regina held her closer. She had no answer to that statement, as she had no idea what Snow truly thought of everything. Yet, Regina knew that if Emma were that intent on having her be a part of the blonde's life, she would fight tooth and nail to maintain that position. The fact that Snow was letting it slip through her fingers angered Regina.

"She is missing out," Regina finally managed.

#

Emma closed her eyes. Resting against Regina had given her an illusion of control, but she was beginning to remember how powerless she was. Snow would forever be ignorant and she would let it happen. She was too happy to have parents to rock the boat. If she complained, after all, they might not want her anymore. They'd given her up once before, she reasoned, which meant they very well could again.

They were trying for another baby. She'd heard the quiet cries from the first floor, from when her parents thought she had gone to sleep. Despite their constant assurances that she was a fantastic daughter – all they could ever hope for, really – they were determined to do it right this time. They would keep this baby and raise it from birth until adulthood. This child was deserving of their love and affection, more so than Emma was.

"May I ask why you're crying?"

Emma wiped at her eyes and shook her head. "Can I just – nap? Is that okay? For now?"

"Henry comes home at four-thirty. That is four hours from now. If you wish to nap all afternoon, I won't begrudge you your rest."

Emma clung to Regina, feeling ever so like a lost girl. Regina was steady, however, and the beat of her heart was soothing. Emma listened closely and focused all her attention on the calm it provided her. Thoughts about Snow were banished from her mind. They didn't belong in this moment, she decided. Regina had created a safe space, and she was going to use it.

"Will you nap, too?"

"I'll try," Regina responded. Truthfully, she hadn't been sleepy at all that day – but with Emma cuddling against her, it was just too easy to slip unconscious. She felt safe, she realized, and it had nothing to do with Emma being the savior.

#

Contrary to her reservations, Regina slept. She dreamt of her days in the Enchanted Forest, where she wrought terror upon the land. She loomed over her subjects, about to start killing in the name of finding Snow when one peasant at the back of the cowering crowd stood. Emma, she thought. The blonde stalked forward, pushed her until her back hit the nearest building, and then pressed her there with the flat of her arm.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know," she claimed. The answer was clear, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to admit it to the other woman.

"This isn't you, Regina."

"I know."

Emma invaded her personal space, cutting off her air as that arm pressed more firmly to her larynx. She grabbed at Emma's arm and tried to free herself. A moment later, the blonde's lips were on hers and all the fight she had left in her fled. Emma's grip relented, but her breath didn't return.

"Regina?"

Regina snapped back to reality. "Yes, Ms. Swan?"

"Uh," Emma trailed off. She didn't know how to tell Regina that Regina had grabbed hold of her breast had had been gently kneading – and that the attention had both roused and aroused a very confused Emma. "Well…"

Regina realized by herself what had taken place, ripped her hand away, and jerked out from under Emma's weight. No wonder she couldn't breathe, she thought. The blonde lummox was cutting off her air and making her dream odd things. It was all Emma's fault, she thought darkly, and had nothing to do with how badly she wanted the other woman.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly, no."

Emma nodded. "Need me to go?"

Regina wanted to say no, but perhaps it was for the best. She clearly couldn't control herself. "Yes, I think that might be necessary."

#

Emma stood, although she wanted nothing more than to remain against Regina for the rest of her life. If this is truly what Regina wanted, she would respect that. She neatened her shirt, trying to linger for a moment longer to give Regina a chance to change her mind. But the brunette was staring stoically at the opposite wall.

"I'm not offended," she ventured. "I know it's not your usual fare – having someone in your bed, I mean."

"What are you implying?" Regina snapped. Anger was easier to deal with than whatever Emma was dredging up.

"Nothing! Damn it, Regina. You're twisting my brain all up. I'm just trying to say that I was pretty much all over you. I don't blame you or anything. It was just – normal? A natural reaction to having someone so close, right?"

"What's your point?"

"I really liked this." Emma wasn't very good at expressing her feelings, but simple statements were easy enough.

"Ms. Swan…"

"I know it probably weirded you out, but I really appreciate it. Maybe if I can't sleep again on my own, you'll let me sleep here again for a bit? Just to recharge."

Regina scooted upright and frowned. "That's all you want? To recharge?"

Suddenly Emma felt like she was being tricked and trapped and conned all at once. "I'm not really that clever, Regina. I don't know what you're getting at. Be blunt – I know you can be. What do you mean?"

Regina froze, unaware that Emma would push her in this fashion. People in Storybrooke just bent to her will – she'd never been questioned before Emma. And now the blonde had unwittingly backed her into a corner.

"I just meant that if – if this is to be a service," Regina invented, "then we'll have to come up with something to tell Henry."

#

"Oh." Emma deflated a bit. She had hoped there was more to this than Regina was letting on, but the brunette seemed decidedly against that sort of thing. The denial hurt, in a way, though Emma wasn't sure she could pinpoint why. "Well, he'll understand that you're helping me sleep."

"By letting you sleep in my bed."

"Well, it's the truth."

"He'll find it strange." Regina felt cold, despite the blankets covering her lap. Without Emma covering her, she was leaking heat at an alarming rate. She shouldn't call the blonde back to bed. She ought to let Emma walk out the door and hope that Emma never looked back. She bit her lower lip to keep from speaking further and revealing her hand.

"Stranger than finding out that his entire town and family are from a storybook?"

Regina fiddled with the sheets. "He is a resilient boy – but you're the savior, and I am the Queen. We should be enemies."

"You're Regina," Emma countered. "And I was really hoping I could just be Emma."

"I'm merely speaking in his terms," Regina shot back. "He won't understand."

"What's to understand? We're adults, and his parents, so as far as I'm concerned, we tell him it's what we're doing and he accepts it."

"I can't lose him, Ms. Swan. You may be able to live without him, but I am not."

The shot landed. Emma frowned deeply and turned. "I didn't think I had a choice. Besides, that's between me and the kid."

"Ms. Swan…" Regina regretted her words, said only in the interest of protecting her emotional wellbeing.

"No, I get it. Mother knows best," Emma said. She tilted her head down and nodded slowly. "Okay, so this was a bad idea. I'll figure out how to sleep on my own. It can't be that hard. And hey – if I need a sleeping curse to get some rest, I know where to come."

#

Regina cursed herself as Emma walked away. She got out of bed, began to trot after her, but froze. What could she say, she wondered, without putting herself at risk? I might actually like you, she tried and shook her head. I want to sleep next to you every night for the rest of my life. No, she thought, these just simply wouldn't do. The front door creaked open and then slammed shut, and she was left alone with her thoughts.

There were very few times in her life when she could admit to being jealous of Snow White – but that afternoon she had many reasons. Emma was heading home to the insufferable woman, first of all, but more importantly, Snow could express how she felt and what she wanted with nary a care in the world. The woman's expressiveness was almost a problem, Regina thought. She hadn't seen the woman confess in the Echo Cave, but she'd heard about it.

She wasn't sure how Emma was coping with the idea that she still wasn't enough for her parents, or with the fact that Snow had been willing to leave her again just to stay with her prince. If Emma's quiet words that afternoon were anything to judge by, though, there was an emotional wound that wasn't healing – and all because Snow was able to openly declare her emotions.

Regina sat back against her bed. She'd spent too many years disrupting the lives of others. Henry wanted her to be better – and part of that was living out her days having as little impact on the lives of the townsfolk as possible. She was mayor, yes, but she tried to consider the negative backlash of her actions. Before making any decision, she pondered what Henry would say. Would he be proud? Or would he look at her with utter betrayal and add more cracks to her heart?

He wouldn't approve of her meddling in Emma's affairs, even if it meant her happiness. She pulled a pillow into her lap, squeezed it to her chest, and tried not to feel too terrible.

#

"You look rested," Snow greeted cheerfully.

Emma brushed past her mother, the good mood she'd gained from her calm afternoon with Regina shattered. All she could think about was how miserable her night was going to be. She avoided Snow's curious gaze and shifted from foot to foot.

"I am," she finally responded.

"So the experiment was successful?"

"…Yes." Emma squirmed and could stand still no longer. She headed for the stairs so as to avoid any further questions from her mother, but she wasn't able to escape in time.

"Can I ask what the experiment was?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't curious about the anaswer."

Emma's foot tapped against the stairs. "I went to see Regina."

"Did she use magic on you?"

It felt like it, Emma wanted to say. Regina had cast some sort of spell and she was enraptured. She was clearly acting under Regina's influence – but she wouldn't case that sort of doubt on the other woman. Any magic between them was unintentionally enacted. She shook her head.

"No, she just let me sleep in her bed."

"If you wanted a different bed, you could have tried mine," Snow offered, managing to sound wounded.

"The bed wasn't the experiment."

"Then what was?"

"Regina," Emma stated. She braced for the backlash, but Snow only sighed.

"Emma…"

"Don't take that tone with me, please." Emma rubbed the back of her neck. "Isn't it good that I got some sleep?"

"Are you going back?"

"It was too weird, so no. I'm going to try to find some other options."

"Do you just need someone nearby?"

She needed Regina, Emma thought, but she said, "It couldn't hurt to try."

"Tonight, then." Snow beamed. "We'll make sure you sleep like a baby."

"Thanks…"

#

Emma closed her eyes and listened to Snow's slow breathing on the opposite side of the bed. It was rhythmic and soothing – so she focused in on it and tried to sync her own inhalations and exhalations up with Snow. The brunette was asleep within minutes, but Emma remained awake. Her frustration bubbled in her stomach. This should have worked, she thought.

But no. She was horribly addicted to Regina Mills and the woman's ability to lull her to sleep. Emma grimaced, rolled onto her side, and prayed to whatever gods were listening to just grant her a few minutes of sleep. She didn't want to be dependent upon a woman who could barely stand her presence. For a moment, she'd thought Regina might like her on a more personal level, but the amount of sass directed at her was too hard to overlook.

When Snow began to snore, Emma tried to remain strong. She didn't need Regina, she thought. She would find another way, no matter what. She plugged her ears, slowed her breathing once again, and tried to shut her brain off. The damn thing kept whirring however, and dragged her back to Regina. The woman was hiding something, Emma thought. They were similar in a number of respects, the largest of which was their tendency to lash out when something hit too close to home.

She had no idea what Regina was so sore about, but she didn't want to exacerbate the situation. The best thing she could do was keep her distance and hope that either she found a way to sleep – or Regina came around in the next few days. Deep down, Emma knew that she wouldn't be resting much until she somehow reconciled with Regina. Until then, she'd have to listen to Snow snoring and pretend that everything was just peachy keen.

#

Emma set her forehead against her desk and groaned. Leroy echoed her sentiment as he sat up and clutched his temples. She wished he would be hung-over just a little bit more quietly. He retched for a moment, and she squeezed her eyes shut, but he quelled the nausea and instead burped.

"Hey, sister, you can let me out."

She rolled her eyes. "Leroy, you don't want that. Granny's still baying for your blood. You broke her counter. Why would you bring your pick into the diner?"

"It's a part of me," he argued. "It goes where I go."

"Unless you're going to the mine, that's not a good idea," she grunted. She didn't have the energy to deal with this. She grabbed the keys from her belt and staggered to the holding cell. "If I let you out, do you promise to go straight home and sleep it off?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Get out of here." She unlocked the cell and shoved his shoulder. "And go easy on the beer. You've already got a gut, so slow it down."

"I gotta keep up with the boys."

"Sure you do. I should really charge you rent."

He tossed his wobbly hand up as he left and she took his place on the cell's cot. Maybe she could manage a nap, she thought. This was an extreme change of environment, so she might be able to trick her body – she was just resting her eyes, she told herself, and just for ten or so minutes. She pulled the ratty blanket over her legs and willed herself to sleep.

"Emma?"

Emma groaned and sat up. "What can I do for you, Ruby?"

Ruby lifted a carry-out bag. "Brought you lunch."

"I didn't order lunch." Emma examined the bag from afar, and then wandered closer. "What is it?"

#

"It's a cheeseburger and fries," Ruby answered. "And yeah, I know you didn't order it."

"Who did?"

Ruby smirked. "I kinda like knowing something you don't."

She held the bag out of Emma's reach until Emma nearly battered her. She huffed and handed the bag over to Emma, who immediately rooted through its contents. It was exactly as Ruby said and she set the burger on her desk. She ran through a list of possible culprits.

"Snow?"

"Nope."

"David?"

"Nope."

"…Henry?"

"Nope."

"You."

"Nope," Ruby responded. With each name her grin widened until it was painfully stretched across her face. "You'll never believe it."

"Regina?"

"Okay, so you will believe it. She just walks into the diner this morning, slips me a twenty, and tells me that I should bring you lunch and keep you company. It was the weirdest thing. Then she just took her coffee and walked away. I was tempted to just keep the twenty-"

"Ruby."

"BUT clearly I didn't because I'm here with your lunch. So eat up. I only have a thirty minute break, and that was as of five minutes ago."

Emma unwrapped the burger and took a healthy bite, all the while watching Ruby suspiciously. When her mouth was cleared enough to speak, she asked, "She didn't say anything? Mention why?"

"Nope. You know how mysterious she likes to pretend to be." Ruby shrugged. "So I let her. I didn't bother asking why. It's not like she made it herself and could poison you, right?"

"Right…"

"So… is there something going on between you and the mayor lady?"

Emma shook her head. "Definitely not. She's not into me – take my word for it."

Ruby snorted. "Alright, if you insist…"

"What are you implying?"

"Just that she's never bought anyone but Henry a meal, and now all of the sudden she's feeding you?"

Emma stared down at her burger and took another bite. Maybe, she thought, Ruby had a point. Maybe this was Regina's peace offering. Her heart thudded with excitement – maybe she could get some real sleep later that night.

#

Regina watched Ruby approach the building from her window and nodded her satisfaction. Emma might be exhausted, but at least she wouldn't be hungry. Regina doubted the woman ever took proper care of herself, which was irritating. She could, of course, hide behind the fact that as mayor, she needed a functioning sheriff, but she knew her reasons were much more personal.

Emma looked like a wreck when she'd arrived at work that morning. She hadn't even noticed Regina entering the door a few yards away and the bags under the blonde's eyes had intensified. Guilt rippled through her at the sight. If she hadn't been so allergic to her feelings, then perhaps Emma would be fully rested and ready to take on the day.

So the burger was a peace offering. If Emma understood the message, she would show up later that night – and hopefully they wouldn't have to talk about what had occurred before. They could just crawl into bed together and be done with it. Emma could sleep and Regina could stop feeling guilty. She sat at her desk and ignored the fact that Emma was enjoying a meal not too far away.

She had more to do than sit around feeling lovesick. There were papers to file and applications to deny – and Emma to think about. She cursed herself and focused once again on the form before her. Some idiot wanted a larger park and was demanding she exercise eminent domain in order to annex his neighbor's house. She snorted and set the paperwork aside. She wondered if Emma had ever gone over there on a public disturbance call-

This was rubbish, she thought. She couldn't go three minutes without her traitorous brain slipping the blonde back into her thoughts. She leaned back in her chair, stared at the ceiling, and cursed her instantaneous reaction against sharing her feelings.

#

"Uh, Emma, what are you doing?"

Emma froze, her hands still in the middle of fluffing her hair. "Nothing.

Snow leaned against the doorframe and tilted her head, "Are you – getting dressed up? Do you have a date?"

"No, of course not."

"Is it Neal?" Snow's face lit up. "Henry'll be so thrilled. You two were meant to meet and now-"

"No," Emma snapped. She was too tired for this, but it had to be said. "You want to think that because it's easier. If I was meant to meet him here, then you sending me to this world all by myself was just destiny, not your choice. Take responsibility."

Snow's face trembled. "I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter. I'm sorry, or whatever. I'm tired."

"You're going to Regina's?"

Emma smoothed her jeans and straightened her shirt. She pulled a sweater over her head, tugged on a jacket, and wound a scarf around her neck. Snow watched her with the largest doe eyes Emma had ever seen. The woman wasn't ready to be a mother, Emma thought. It was probably for the best she had been sacrificed.

"I need to sleep, Snow. And if being near Regina is the only way to get that done, then I'm willing to live with the awkwardness that comes with it. I'm just so tired of being tired."

"Just… be careful. You may think she's fond of you, but it's just a show."

"Regina proved herself in Neverland," Emma fired back. "You need to stop questioning her."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not five, Snow. I'm capable of taking care of myself."

Snow stared down at the floor and fiddled with the hem of her fuzzy white sweater. "I know."

"I'll be back in the morning." Emma moved past her, ignoring the fear that Regina would reject her outright.

#

Regina sat on the couch and listened to Henry move around upstairs. He had been grouchy when she picked him up from school – after learning that she'd had the day off yesterday, he'd immediately demanded a day off as well. Denial of his requests led to the deepest pout she'd seen in recent years. She'd had to remind herself that he was nearly twelve, rather than a three year old begging for just one more cookie.

Emma wasn't coming. She resigned herself to that. It was nearly eight thirty and the blonde woman hadn't shown. It was possible, of course, that Emma hadn't interpreted the gift of lunch as an olive branch – or perhaps Ruby hadn't said who it was from. That was a distinct possibility. Regina frowned. Next time she'd give the wolf clearer directions. She was more like a dog, Regina considered, that required explicit instructions.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Henry?"

"Can I have pizza for dinner tomorrow?"

"You know I bought a roast."

"C'mon. You won't let me take a day, so lemme at least have pizza…" His voice dropped off into a whine and she sighed.

"Friday. You may have pizza on Friday."

"That's four days away."

"I can count, Henry."

He stomped back upstairs and slammed his door. She settled her temple against her fingertips, and her elbow against the arm of the couch. He'd get over it, she thought. He loved when she made pot roast. His tantrum was still a demand for power – and she was fairly experienced at dealing with those who felt themselves entitled.

There were dishes to do, she realized. She stood, glanced at the door, and made her way to the kitchen. She'd have to find a more direct route of indirectly telling Ms. Swan that she wasn't opposed to the proposed set up.

#

Emma dodged the cat's swinging claws as best she could, but it caught her arm with one paw, yowled loudly, and tore a chunk of flesh free. Emma nearly fell out of the tree, but managed to maintain her footing on the ladder. She carried the ungrateful mass of hissing fur to the ground, shoved the beast into its owner's arms, and then stalked away, barely listening to the woman's words of gratitude.

That hurt, she bemoaned silently, and she could totally be in Regina's bed right now if not for that dumb woman and her dumb cat being stuck in that dumb tree. She was pouting and she didn't care in the slightest. She passed a few friendly faces on the street who shot greetings at her, but she moved past them without even acknowledging their existence.

She hurt, she was tired, and all she wanted was to be near Regina. She wasn't okay with any of those, to be honest, but two of the three seemed fixable. The addiction, however, didn't seem to have a good solution – or any real solution for that matter. For the moment her only option was to grovel for Regina to take pity on her. She really wanted sleep.

She strode up Mifflin and took a moment to check her arm. The bleeding was sluggish, and she fancied, just for a moment, that Regina would tenderly clean it for her. She could imagine Regina's soft fingers rubbing a warm, wet cloth over her skin. The image made her heart flutter. She shoved it away, grumbling under her breath, and approached the front door.

Three knocks later Regina pulled the door open. For a split second the brunette looked rather ticked off by the interruption in her evening, but Emma watched in silent amazement as Regina's expression melted from frustrated to mildly pleased in a matter of seconds.

#

"Ms. Swan?"

"Hi."

Regina examined Emma from the tip of her toes to the top of her head, pausing only to stare at the blood oozing from Emma's arm. She gestured for Emma to step inside, and Emma did so without another word. They walked silently to the bathroom, content simply to be together once again. Regina felt as though a large weight had been hefted from her chest, though she could hardly say such a thing to the blonde.

She forced Emma to sit atop the toilet and then dug through the medicine cabinet. Properly equipped, she swabbed Emma's arm, not paying an ounce of attention to Emma's squeaks of pain and indignation. Once the four long scratches were clean, she dabbed antibacterial gel against Emma's skin, and then slapped a large bandage into place.

"Thanks."

"Did you come here merely to get patched up?"

Emma cleared her throat. "Okay, so no. Not exactly. Hear me out – just for a minute, okay? Because I'm like a train wreck without sleep – so I'm sorry for half the things that'll probably pop outta my mouth if you let me keep talking."

"Your point?"

"I need sleep, Regina. I need – you." Regina stared silently at her until she shifted under the intense gaze and tried again. "I'm sorry this is so weird for you, but until we figure out what's up with my sleeping, you're all I've got. I tried drinking a whole bottle of Nyquil."

"That's hardly healthy."

"Okay, so it was an exaggeration. But I took a full dose. Nothing. I took a couple sleeping pills, too. I slept on those, but I wasn't rested when I woke up." Emma rubbed the back of her neck and scuffed her toe against the ground. "So… please. Just tonight, and if it's just too weird… I guess I'll never sleep again."

#

"You're being melodramatic, Ms. Swan."

"That's just how I feel." Emma jammed her hands into her pockets and shrugged. "So…?"

"You will remain on your half of the bed."

"I can do that."

"Very well. I'm not quite ready for bed yet, but you are welcome to go lie down and wait." Regina gestured to the stairs. "I'll be up in an hour or so."

"Whatcha doing?" Emma resisted going to bed alone, mostly because if she could fall asleep on her own, just in Regina's bed, she knew the other woman would wheedle her way out of sleeping there as well. "Mind if I hang out?"

"You look tired."

"Never too tired to meddle in your affairs. That's in my blood, after all."

Regina huffed but nodded. "You may sit quietly and wait."

"I'm pretty good at that. I had a lot of practice when I was a kid."

Regina led her down the hall to the study, directed her to the armchair, and then took her place behind the desk. She bent her head so that she couldn't see Emma sitting a few feet away and concentrated on her paperwork. Emma sat patiently for five minutes, but then began tapping her foot.

"Do you mind?"

"Sorry."

"Control yourself."

"I can totally do that."

Emma dragged her feet up onto the chair so the temptation to tap a beat was completely removed. She rested her cheek on her knee and closed her eyes. Regina was five or so feet away, but it was close enough that Emma was feeling drowsy. She stifled a yawn, relaxed her limbs, and drifted to sleep.

Regina worked diligently until the top of the hour. She stretched out her legs and cocked her head to loosen the knot developing at the juncture of her neck and shoulders. When her eyes landed on Emma, she shook her head.


	3. Chapter 3

With a flick of her wrist, Regina levitated Emma into the air. Careful not to jostle the tired woman, she used her magic to move Emma from the study to the bedroom. Before setting Emma down, she pulled the covers back. She then eased Emma onto the mattress and tucked the blonde woman in. On a sudden whim, she kissed Emma's forehead.

She still had a few things to take care of, like unloading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters, so she left Emma sleeping. Strange, she thought, how much she wanted to curl up next to Emma and not move. Save for a short span of time after Cora's passing, when depression had slaughtered her motivation, she wasn't fond of lounging about in bed. Somehow the thought of Emma lounging with her made it that much more enticing.

In the hallway she leaned against the wall and massaged her temples. This was solely for Emma's benefit she reminded herself. There was no benefit to herself and there didn't need to be. As per Henry's nearly constant instruction, she was trying to do something entirely for someone else's happiness. It was the first step in her twelve step Evil Queen rehabilitation. She didn't dare ask what steps two through twelve were.

"Mom?"

She refocused on him as he poked his head out of his room. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dear."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm just tired."

She felt like his gaze was dissecting, so she smiled, intent on diffusing his worry. He frowned. "Go to bed."

"I'd like to," she said truthfully, "but sometimes adults have to put off what they want in favor of doing what they need."

"Sometimes even adults have to take care of themselves, too," he instructed.

"You're still not having pizza."

He grinned. "I can still hope."

#

She waited until he retreated to his room before seriously considering his words. Would it be so bad, she wondered, to skip out on her responsibilities for one evening? The question was ridiculous. She wasn't going to alter her life just because Emma Swan was passed out in her bed. She lingered a moment longer before forcing herself to walk down to the kitchen.

The faster she did her chores, the sooner she could be in bed for the night. The memory of Emma's hair splayed out over the pillow was motivation enough to hasten her hands. She nearly dropped a plate before she ordered herself to calm down and do things properly. She emptied the dishwasher more slowly and then pulled out a rag.

"Regina?"

She turned, the rag still clutched in one fist. "You're awake?"

"How'd I get into your bed?"

"I put you there."

"Oh."

"Why aren't you still asleep?"

"I dunno. I just – woke up a few minutes ago." Emma shrugged. "So I came to find you."

"It's like you have some sort of radar," Regina commented. She nearly laughed at how absurd the idea was. "Go back to bed. I'll join you shortly."

"Lemme help."

"This is my kitchen, Ms. Swan. I can take care of it." Regina couldn't stop the thought of it perhaps someday being their kitchen from wiggling to the forefront of her mind. She pushed the thought away. "It should only take another few minutes."

"It'd be weird if I just hung out around you, huh?" Emma rocked on her heels. "Okay. I won't pester you. Just… don't take too long, okay?"

"Okay," Regina responded, her hand moving automatically toward the counter so that she could complete her task with expediency. As Emma walked away, her eyes drifted down to Emma's rear.

#

Emma trailed her fingertips along the wall and came to a halt in front of a picture of Henry. He looked to be about three years old and sported a wide grin. There was ketchup smeared around his mouth and he had a handful of French fries in on grubby fist. Though part of her cringed at the notion of such a discussion, she made a note to ask Regina more about Henry's childhood later. It hadn't been a mistake to give him up, she thought, but she did regret not being part of his life for so long.

She stepped back into the bedroom, crawled into bed, and pulled the sheets to her chin. She wasn't sure she necessarily approved of the high thread count that Regina insisted upon – preferring flannel to stave off the cold, but she couldn't argue with how comfortable the bed itself was. Under normal circumstances, she'd be asleep in moments.

After confirming that she couldn't hear any footsteps in the hallway, she turned and pressed her nose into the pillow case. Regina's scent covered them and made her eyes heavy. Maybe, she thought, she could steal one of these so that she might indulge in a nap later.

"What are you doing?"

Emma smiled sheepishly. "It smells like you."

Rather than comment, Regina simply shut the door behind her and went to her closet. "Avert your eyes."

"Oh, sure." Emma slapped her fingers over her eyes and then childishly peeked through them. Regina pulled her clothing off with short, sure movements and Emma's heart hammered at the sight of the brunette's smooth, tanned skin. Regina's under garments were simple and black, and Emma thought she'd never forget the sight. Which was weird, she argued with herself. This was Regina, after all, and she really shouldn't have any sort of inclinations towards the woman.

#

Regina pulled her sleep shirt and did the buttons as quickly as she could, aware that Emma was a yard or so away – she cursed herself. By telling the blonde to look away, she had basically invited the other woman to scope her out. Emma was resistant to authority and fought direct orders more than any other person Regina had ever met. She turned back to the bed and wasn't surprised to see Emma's eyes peering through split fingers.

"Ms. Swan?"

Emma's cheeks flushed a bright red. She rolled onto her side. "Totally going to keep to my side this time. I promise."

Regina slid under the covers and immediately turned so that her back was to Emma. This way, she figured, she could pretend she was alone in bed. Nobody had spent a night in her bed since Henry was very small and in need of her nightmare-defeating powers – so it was impossible to completely fool herself, but she could at least pretend it wasn't Emma Swan bumping against her and depressing the mattress.

"Thanks again."

"Go to sleep, Ms. Swan."

"I don't know what I woulda done," Emma rambled. "So really, thank you."

"Go to sleep," Regina repeated. "As that was the entire purpose of your visit, was it not?"

Emma bit down on her lower lip. She also sorta wanted to see Regina, but this didn't seem like the time nor the place to discuss such things. She yawned and nodded, "Okay, okay. You're right. Good night, Regina."

"Good night, Emma."

Regina stiffened at the slip of her tongue. She hadn't meant to call the blonde woman anything but her formal title. Keeping a distance between them, metaphorically if not literally, seemed safest. She'd hate for Emma to get the wrong idea – which was, coincidentally, the right idea. Regina squeezed her eyes shut.

#

Emma smiled at the use of her name, but knew better than to needle the other woman about it. She let herself relax and soon enough she was asleep. Her dreams were restless, however. The worries she'd been too tired to consider while awake crowded her unconscious mind.

She stood in the middle of a large empty field her hands empty and her body bare. Wind whipped past her and raised a layer of gooseflesh; she rubbed her hands ineffectively over her upper arms. She spotted a dust cloud on the horizon and looked around for something with which to cover herself. There was nothing but the grass around her. She splayed one hand over her breasts and the other over her groin.

The cloud cleared into residents of Storybrooke marching toward her. They approached, oblivious of her nudity, and spoke over one another. The shouting drove her to throw her hands over her ears and she dropped to her knees.

"Please stop!"

Despite her pleas, they continued screaming demands. She pressed so hard her fingers sunk into her skull. She ripped her hands away from her head, scared and in pain. The people were circling her, their noises hardly even human anymore. She swung at them as they blurred together.

She opened her eyes and found Regina staring intently down at her. The brunette's hand was on her shoulder, the gentle shaking of which had roused Emma from her nightmare. She pawed at the moisture on her cheeks, sniffled, and tried a small smile. It failed horribly, so she allowed a frown to overtake her features.

"You were kicking," Regina explained. "I thought it best to wake you."

"Thanks," Emma murmured. "Just some shitty dream. I should be fine."

"And if it resumes?"

"I'll deal with it."

Regina huffed, "If it will help you sleep without slamming your heel against my calves, you may sleep against me."

#

"Seriously?"

"Don't make me regret this," Regina sighed.

She gestured for Emma to curl against her, and schooled her expression carefully blank. A contented smile was threatening to overtake her lips, and that would be completely unacceptable. She allowed Emma's head to come once more to rest against her chest and tugged Emma's arm across her stomach. She wrapped her own arm around Emma's shoulders, settling her fingers on the curve of Emma's hip. Once they were properly positioned, she glanced down at Emma.

"Will this suffice?"

Emma nodded. "I mean, if it's cool with you? Will it, y'know, make you dream?"

Regina fought the rising warmth in her cheeks. "I will be fine."

"Then it's perfect. Hopefully now I won't have shit dreams, huh?"

"That was the intent, yes."

Emma closed her eyes and snuggled closer. Once Emma's eyes were off her, Regina let the tiniest of smiles push up the edges of her lips. For a single, silly moment, she let herself imagine that this was how things were every day – that she could come home from work, cuddle up next to this beautiful woman, and be content. Her fingers slipped under the hem of Emma's shirt and rubbed a tiny circle against Emma's soft skin.

Even asleep, Emma hummed at the affectionate contact. Regina took this as permission to continue and continued her tiny massage, which honestly was just an excuse to touch Emma directly. Her fingers traveled inward, exploring what she could reach. They encountered a rough patch of skin and, curious, she pulled Emma's shirt up. There was a long, thin scar that followed the dip of her hip into her shorts. She ran her fingers over the stretch marks she spotted – Henry, she decided.

Enough was enough, she scolded herself. She was definitely stepping beyond the boundaries of polite conduct. She withdrew her hand and prepared to sleep.

#

Emma stretched as she woke, arching forward and cracking her toes. She pulled Regina closer, which was quite a feat considering they were already nestled snugly together. Regina grumbled in her sleep, but her grasp on Emma's side tightened. Half-asleep, Emma lifted her head and kissed Regina's cheek. She hadn't slept so well in a long time, she thought. The sleep she had just experienced could be bottled and sold for millions of dollars. She considered that her estimation was a bit of an exaggeration, but shook her head. That was the price tag, she determined, and not a penny less.

While Regina was still asleep, Emma allowed herself a more thorough examination of Regina's face and body – her perfunctory glance down Regina's nearly nude form the night before had been tinged with embarrassment. This morning, however, she felt entitled to a quick looksee. Nothing too invasive, she promised herself, and she wouldn't move Regina's clothing at all – the fact that she even thought that made her cringe and subsequently wonder what exactly she wanted from this weird relationship.

During sleep, Regina's top had shifted several centimeters to the side. Emma's cheek had been close to resting against Regina's warm flesh. Emma determined that it wouldn't have been so bad if that had happened. Maybe next time, she thought and then frowned. She was assuming there would be a next time, and she ought not get her hopes up. Regina had been kind once, but that could easily change.

Emma set her head back down. She hoped this could be a common thing until her sleep patterns fixed themselves. So many nights without decent rest had left her short tempered with everyone she encountered, and she had even snapped unduly at Henry. Right now she felt like she could deal with anything and everyone, and all of it with a smile.

#

Emma's eyes had just drooped closed once more when Regina shifted under her. She quickly slowed her breathing and feigned sleep, though she wasn't sure why it was so important to her that Regina not catch her actively snuggling. She waited for Regina to pull away and was greatly surprised when the opposite occurred.

If she wasn't mistaken, Regina had kissed the top of her head. She yawned widely and melodramatically – announcing that she was now awake. Regina jerked back and immediately released her grip, which made Emma regret dropping her game.

"Good you're awake," Regina commented, "because you were cutting off my blood supply. Are you certain your mother is not part koala, or perhaps octopus?"

"Pretty sure." Emma rasped and then cleared her throat. She didn't miss the way Regina trembled when she spoke.

"Father, then."

"Negative."

Regina pulled out of Emma's arms, tacitly ignoring the pout that overtook Emma's face. So that, she mused, was where Henry got it from. She had certainly never taught him the expression, but it had been damn near lethal when he was a very small child. Thankfully its effects lessened with age. At nearly thirty, Emma had very little effect on her.

Still, it was best to completely avoid temptation. She was moments away from returning to bed, so she forced herself to cross to the master bathroom. Even with her back turned, and the door shut, she could sense Emma sprawled on her bedspread, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She turned the water on in the sink and splashed her cheeks. This lovesick act of hers had to stop, she instructed herself. She was going to clean up for the day, bid Ms. Swan good bye, and go to work as if nothing unusual had happened.

#

As soon as Regina was in the bathroom, Emma rolled around the bed. She was definitely going to steal one of the pillow cases. It wasn't as good as sleeping with Regina, but she would bet cash money that Regina's scent would at least let her nap. She wondered idly if Regina had indeed cast some sort of spell like Snow thought.

It was possible and it might explain why all she wanted was for Regina to return to bed. She wasn't even tired anymore – she just wanted Regina in her arms once more. The thought was a little disturbing. True, she no longer thought of Regina as a threat – but to jump from casual non-enemies to cuddle-buddies? Emma frowned. There was something wrong with her. She pulled her nose away from Regina's pillow and sat up.

Wanting to be helpful, and convince Regina that this should happen again, she set about making the bed. She pulled the sheets flat, then the comforter, and finally arranged the pillows just so. She could hear the shower running, so she tiptoed into the hall and opened the nearest door. Thankfully it was the linen closet, as she predicted, and she found a spare pillow case. She would have enough time, she decided, to swap in a fresh pillow case and to pocket the used one. It wasn't creepy at all.

"Emma?"

She spun around, the pillow case drooping in her fist. "Good morning, kid."

"Why are you here?"

"…Checking your linen closet for… uh… magic."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm a kid, Emma, not dumb."

"Uh…"

"You look better," he said, before she could come up with a reasonable excuse. "Like you're not on the brink of keeling over."

"Oh, well, thanks, kid. Such high praise – watch out, or you'll give me a big head." She fidgeted and glanced at the master bedroom. Regina's shower would be over soon and she hadn't performed her switch yet. There was nothing to tell Henry, though, that would justify her prancing back into that room.

#

He laughed, but his eyes quickly sobered. He had Regina's sharp gaze, Emma noted, and Regina's ability to stare straight through her. She wondered how hard it was to learn that particular skill, as it would no doubt aid in her position as sheriff, but her thoughts were cut off as his mouth opened again.

"Why… are you holding one of my mom's pillow cases?"

"Because – she asked me to exchange it? With the one on her bed? Something about it needing a clean?"

"Emma, my mom washes the sheets every Sunday afternoon. It's clean right now."

"She got it unusually dirty," Emma stuttered. She slowly shoved her hand back into the closet and set the pillow case down. "Okay. Uh, you're right. I should probably go. Tell your mom that I went home, huh?"

"Why were you here?"

"We had an early morning discussion about your allowance. Ask her about it. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to discuss finances with you."

His face lit up – she had finally lit upon the one topic that could distract him. "Oh, that's awesome! Did you convince her I needed more? Because I'm getting to that age where I could maybe take a girl out-"

"Really don't need to hear this, Henry." She plugged her ears and marched to the stairs. "For all I know, you're six years old, think girls have cooties, and need the money to buy more marbles."

"Kids haven't played marbles in decades, Emma."

"Smart mouth," she called back at him, taking the stairs two at a time. She stepped out into the brisk morning air and suddenly realized that her clothing was rumpled, her hair was disheveled, and she probably looked like she was making some sort of walk of shame home. Ah well, she thought. There was nothing shameful in finally getting some sleep.

#

Regina jammed her head under the spray and let the conditioner wash out. Her shower was longer than was strictly necessary, but she was gathering her thoughts. She was going to march into her bedroom with a rant on her lips – she would regale Emma with all the reasons this was a bad idea, and then the blonde would understand just why it shouldn't continue. She couldn't bring herself to say no, though, so if Emma weren't convinced, then she was afraid she'd just roll over.

Regina Mills did not roll over for anyone, let alone the daughter of Snow White – no matter if the blonde fit perfectly into her arms and smelled like heaven. She was once the Evil Queen, she reminded herself. She had no right to traipse about like a child with her first crush. Emma's pout crept into her subconscious and she growled.

She needed to put a stop to this, right now. At its current trajectory, her affection for Emma would be blossoming into something couldn't prune by the end of the week. It had been so much easier to watch Emma from across the diner, or from her window. The distance made it believable that they could never be together in any fashion. Even friendship was off the table when there was so much space between them. With Emma sleeping practically on top of her, though, she was forming notions.

She twisted the knobs and stood dripping in the stall. Maybe, the dying voice of her optimism suggested, she ought to ask Emma about everything. Maybe Emma would react positively.

No, she argued, there was no way the Savior would ever fall for her. She was ashamed of herself for even thinking that was an option. The proximity, she determined, was the true perpetrator of her emotional upheaval. She wrapped a towel tightly around her body and stepped out of the shower, determined to set some boundaries, once and for all.

#

Her bedroom was empty and her rant died on her lips. Something small in her heart deflated and died – she felt used. Emma had needed a good night's sleep and nothing else. Although she had been dead set on telling Emma that there was nothing between them, she couldn't stop the hurt from bubbling in her stomach.

"Mom?" Henry pushed the door open and peeked in at her. "Emma mentioned that you were going to raise my allowance?"

"When did you speak with Ms. Swan?"

"Like five minutes ago." He cocked an eyebrow. "She was in the middle of raiding the linen closet, or something. I dunno. She was acting really strange."

"And she mentioned your allowance?"

"Well, she was totally herself when she mentioned my allowance. Nothing strange about that behavior, I promise."

"Henry, we've talked about this. If you want a larger allowance, you need to start doing more chores around the house."

"Emma pretty much promised you'd give me twenty dollars a week." He smiled cheekily at her. "It musta been a pretty serious discussion, if you invited her over before you showered."

Ah, Regina thought. Emma had been intercepted by their son, couldn't come up with a viable excuse, and had fled in the face of explaining herself. She could almost picture the panic that must have stricken Emma's face when he caught her –

"In the linen closet?"

"Yeah."

Regina walked past him and opened the closet door. "What was she doing?"

"Just sorta holding a clean pillow case and staring at your bedroom. She said that you wanted her to change the case, because you got yours dirty?" He sounded perplexed. "But I told her that wasn't right, because-"

"Thank you, Henry." She cut off his explanation and picked up the discarded pillow case. She wondered what exactly Emma wanted with it.


	4. Chapter 4

Emma jogged down the street, greeting every person she passed with a chipper call and a smile. Most gave her confused looks, but she ignored them. She was ready to tackle the day – as soon as she got home, showered, changed her clothes, and had a cup of coffee, in that order. Her mood was soaring into the skies when she stepped into the apartment, but clattered to the ground as she came face to face with the disapproving face of Snow White.

"You didn't come home last night."

Nope, Emma wanted to state. What gave it away? But she withheld her sassy comments and smiled. "I was sleeping with Regina."

Snow's face fell. "Emma…"

"Okay, wait - that came out wrong. Like it was literally sleeping. It wasn't sexual."

"I don't care if it was or wasn't-"

"You don't?" Emma looked at her, baffled.

"What you do with your romantic life is your own business, Emma. I'm not upset that you're attracted to women, Emma, I'm upset that it's her of all people." Snow stepped forward and placed a hand on Emma's arm.

"Whoa, who said anything about being attracted to women?"

Snow's lips curved up into an understanding smile. "It's okay, Emma. My love for you is unconditional."

"I-"

"Sh," Snow shook her head, "you don't have to come out if you don't want to. I've done a lot of reading on the internet, and you'll do it when you're ready."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Gee thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it."

"What I am concerned about, however, is Regina. She's not who you think she is."

"We've talked about this before…"

"And you haven't once listened. She pretends to be exactly what you want, and then she hurts you before you can realize it's just an illusion-"

"Snow. She's not the same woman who got trapped into being your step-mother." Emma pulled out of Snow's grip. "If you'd give her a chance, I think you'd see that for yourself."

#

Emma bounded up to her bedroom, ignoring the rest of Snow's indignant commentary. The Snow White she remembered as a child was a meek, sweet woman, Emma thought. That Snow won the day by being kind to all the woodland creatures – someone much closer to the Mary-Margaret of old. Emma missed that woman.

This version of Snow, the one trying to mother her at every turn, was headstrong and a bit egotistical, if Emma had to be honest. She kept hoping that a bit of Mary-Margaret's levelheaded approach would return, but she was aware that she was probably waiting in vain.

Not even Snow, though, could completely tear down her well-rested, good mood. A warm shower quickly resuscitated her and she smiled broadly as she tugged on a pair of dark skinny jeans, a turtleneck, and her knee-length boots. She clipped her badge to her belt, checked her appearance in the mirror, and set off for the station practically whistling.

"Good bye…" Snow called from the kitchen.

Emma threw her hand up in passing. "See you later, Snow."

"Will you be home for dinner?"

Emma couldn't help but wonder if Regina would invite her over – but that was a lot to expect. She'd already invaded the woman's bed; Regina probably didn't want her around for every aspect of daily existence. She nodded her confirmation.

"What are we having?"

"I was going to make lasagna."

It wouldn't be as good as Regina's, Emma thought. She scolded herself immediately. Snow's would be delicious, too. She had faith in that. If she was going to make it through the day, she'd have to divert her thoughts away from the brunette. Every time her brain tried to slip Regina in, she was going to think of something awful and ugly, she resolved. Determined to stay focused, she hurried down the street toward the station.

#

Emma strolled into her office, kicked her legs up on the desk, and threw her hands behind her head. Bring it on, she thought. There was nothing this day could throw at her that she wasn't prepared to tackle head on. An hour later, her spirits were flagging. Her leg jittered against the floor and she leaned forward on her elbows. All there was to do that day was attend to paper work.

She hated paperwork, but not for the reasons Regina usually accused her of. She wasn't lazy, she was just hesitant to complete any form of formal writing. She hadn't finished high school, a fact she was reminded of every time she thought of Henry nearing that age. Soon he'd be smarter than she was – well, if he wasn't already, she thought ruefully.

Regina would look at her work, was her fear, and think that she was stupid. She didn't know how to be professional, she didn't know how to use the jargon, and she didn't know how to spell very well. When she read, she stuck to magazines, where the pictures could assist her understanding of the overall story. She knew she wasn't dumb, but her literacy level left much to be desired. She had no interest in Regina realizing this, or forming some sort of judgment against her.

So she spent her days at the station praying for a phone call – a reason to leave the paperwork undone and go do something with her hands. She hated rescuing cats from trees, and chasing Pongo through various backyards and side streets, but that's what she was good at. She was fast, lean, and strong – she just couldn't read so well.

With nothing to distract her, she bent over the keyboard and wrote two sentences. The phone rang and she grabbed it before the first ring had ended.

#

"Sheriff's Station, Sheriff Swan speaking."

"This is Tom Clark – Sneezy – I've been robbed." The frantic sentence was punctuated by a hysterical sneeze. Emma was glad they were over the phone because she could just imagine the splattering of mucus that no doubt resulted.

"Gimme some details. Do you know who did it? How long ago did the offense take place?"

"Just now! He's still here. I've got him trapped in the back room."

"You're out on Main and Plymouth, right?"

She jerked her desk drawer open, withdrew her handgun, and hooked it to her belt. He sobbed his assent, so she hung up and sprinted outside. This was the sort of thing she lived for – taking down perps, wielding her elected authority, and using her hands to dole out her own style of justice. Sitting behind that desk was slowly whittling away at her patience.

As she stretched her legs and ran the short distance down the street, she considered how lucky it was that the attempted robbery had taken place that day, rather than at any time during the past few weeks. She wouldn't have been much of a sheriff, she thought, if she was too sluggish and tired to dodge a punch. Now, though, she was energetic and ready to do her job.

She burst into the pharmacy with her hand on her holster. The store was quiet, save for a series of loud sneezes coming from the rear. She crept around corners to ensure that everything was clear before approaching the short, stocky man practically weeping in front of his stock room.

"Mr. Clark?"

"Oh, thank god you're here." He grasped at her sleeve and she tried not to flinch. His fingers were covered in germs, she expected, and now so was she. Regina wouldn't approve, she was sure of that.

#

Emma pulled free from his desperate, snotty grip and approached the door. She listened quietly, and shushed Clark when he snuffled too loudly. Through the thick door, she could hear something moving. It didn't sound like shoes on the floor however, and when she called out her identity, and what she was about to do, there was no answer but a very tiny whuff.

She shot a curious look at Clark, who shrugged at her. She undid the button holding her gun in its holster and pulled the door open. As soon as there was a scant foot of space, a small terrier darted into the aisles. Emma watched it streak down the street before turning her judgmental gaze onto Clark.

"You were robbed by a dog."

"He's a thief," Clark wheezed. "You saw the bag between his teeth. Damn animal loaded money from the till in there before trying to take off, while one of his dog buddies distracted me!"

"So you're saying a pack of dogs is conspiring against you."

"You saw it!"

"I saw what was maybe a ten pound terrier mutt running out of your storage room," Emma clarified. "Unless you have some sort of video recording system and some footage to show me."

"I'll have the footage tonight," he promised. "But it has to render first."

"I'll be back in the morning, then."

If, she amended silently, she got enough sleep to deal with this town and it's highly unique problems. She turned as he extended his hand, hoping that he thought that she just hadn't seen his desire for a handshake, and walked toward the open door. Before she could make her escape, she spotted Regina approaching and quickly busied herself with examining a knee brace. She frowned, as if deep in thought, and turned the item over a few times in her hand, all the while commending her excellent acting abilities.

#

Regina walked slowly, her head raised and her posture elegant as per usual, but her eyes didn't quite focus on anything in particular. Her mind tumbled along in a much more disorganized fashion than she was accustomed. One moment she was thinking about Henry, and the next second she found herself considering the texture of Emma's hair.

She entered the pharmacy with her head in the clouds. She rang the bell at the front and tapped her foot expectantly. Clark dried his tears, cleared his throat, and approached. He dug through a pile of bags and found the one with her name on it. She paid silently, not even bothering to thank him for his services. This was a monthly expenditure, and every month they barely made eye contact. He probably was too embarrassed by the contents of her prescription, and she simply had no interest in interacting with him.

"Oh, Regina. I didn't even see you come in."

"You did, too." Clark sneezed. "You were leaving, then you saw her, so you stayed."

"What? No!" Emma glanced covertly at Regina, who was watching her with an almost amused smirk. That was a good sign, she determined. "I was totally in the market for a knee brace. I have… bad knees?"

"Will you be making a purchase?"

She glared at the man until he stepped back meekly and walked away, leaving the two women to their conversation. Once he had fled, Emma smiled at Regina. "Like I was saying, I didn't see you come in. You come here often?"

"Are you always this smooth, Ms. Swan?"

Emma's grin wavered. "Smooth?"

"You want something. What is it?"

"I can't just make conversation?"

"No." Regina chuckled darkly. "Nobody simply makes conversation with me."

"I do," Emma insisted. She did have a favor to ask, but after that exchange, she wasn't keen on asking. "Come to lunch with me? My treat."


	5. Chapter 5

Regina searched her mind for a valid excuse not to accept the invitation – as spending more time than was absolutely necessary in the woman's presence would lead to nothing good – but she couldn't think of a thing.

She mustered a firm, "I ought to get back to town hall-"

"Even the mayor has to have lunch…" Emma folded her arms over her chest. "Unless you're on some new diet fad and I just didn't notice. I mean, not that I'm watching what you eat or anything. Uh, so lunch?"

Regina stared into Emma's earnest eyes and nodded stiffly. "Very well. But I have only a half an hour."

"And then mayoring calls. I get it. I should only take a few minutes for lunch, too. I have to talk to David about catching some dogs."

"Dogs?"

"Don't you know? They're holding up small businesses all over this neighborhood." Emma ignored the hostile look this earned her from Clark and gestured for Regina to step outside in front of her. "What brings you to the pharmacy anyway?"

"Picking up a prescription."

"Anything good? Or is for Henry to sell during lunch."

"Norinyl."

Emma looked puzzled for a moment, but she smiled and shook it off. "So it is for Henry to sell."

"Birth control, Ms. Swan." Regina wasn't sure why her cheeks heated at the admission.

"Oh." Emma wasn't sure why her cheeks suddenly flooded. The pills were innocuous, she thought. Still, she couldn't stop her thoughts from trickling forward from birth control pills, to preventing pregnancy – and pregnancy resulted from sex – and what would Regina look like-

"Ms. Swan?"

Emma swallowed roughly past the lump in her throat. "What?"

"I said you've just walked past Granny's."

Emma came to a halt and spun around. Regina was indeed standing a yard or so back outside the gate leading to the diner. She grinned foolishly and jogged over.

#

Regina watched Emma leaning against the counter, chatting with Ruby, and grinning up a storm. There was an unsettled feeling brewing in her stomach at the sight of the blonde woman so happy because of another woman. She scowled and fiddled with the napkin dispenser to distract herself. Emma was buying her lunch, she thought. She had no reason to feel jealous of Emma's easy rapport with the other brunette - and really no right. It wasn't as if she owned the blonde, anyway. She banished the tantalizing image of possessing Emma in favor of pulling out a compact and checking her makeup.

When Emma returned to their table, she adopted a haughty expression with her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. She lifted one eyebrow to punctuate her question.

"Are you normally this inefficient?"

Emma shrugged. "Ruby was telling me about this new guy she's seeing. He's pretty into her wolf thing. She's worried that makes him weird."

"That's not what the conversation looked like," Regina retorted. "Besides, I have too much to do to sit around while you - flirt with the waitress."

"I wasn't flirting." Emma kept her tone dispassionate as she took a seat. "But seriously, do you think that makes him weird? I told her no, but I dunno."

Regina took a moment to deliberate and then finally gave the slightest shake of her head. "We all have something similar to hide, and, I suppose, we should all want someone who does not merely overlook our flaws, but appreciates them."

"You don't want that?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you totally couched it in vague words. Why don't you want that?"

"Leave it alone, Ms. Swan."

Emma grumbled and set her elbows on the table. She removed them only when Ruby slid their meals in front of them and she needed to pick up her silverware. Her pout, however, remained.

#

Ruby chuckled at the odd pair seated by the window. She had noticed the dirty looks Regina kept sending her, and had a pretty good idea what was causing them – because she'd also seen the way Regina stared at Emma when she thought herself to be completely unobserved. She interrupted their conversation with their plates and tweaked Emma's pouting cheeks.

"Hey, babe, what's with the face?"

Emma pushed her hand away. "There's nothing wrong with my face."

"You're rivaling me in my wolf form when I'm begging Granny for scraps. It's kinda cute, in a sad way," Ruby teased. She set her hand on Emma's forearm.

"Oh, very funny," Emma countered.

"I'll take mine to go, actually." Regina grabbed her purse, but Emma nearly lunged across the table to stop her from leaving.

"Stay, please. Ruby, uh, this is kind of a private luncheon between the mayor and the sheriff, so if we could, y'know, get to it?"

Ruby snorted, but walked away with an agreeable sort of expression on her lips. She pulled a rag from her back pocket and rubbed the counters down with her ears pricked in Emma and Regina's direction. Her ploy, she thought, had worked. Regina was jealous, without a doubt. What she was going to do with this knowledge, she didn't know just yet.

She could tell Emma, she considered. But the blonde already looked enraptured. She didn't want to make it too easy on Emma. If she knew Emma wasn't interested, the warning could be used to avoid hostile feelings between them, and then ultimately between Henry and them both as well. Emma's attraction, however, made it too difficult to meddle.

Sighing, she twisted away and rubbed down to the opposite end of the counter. The problem with small towns, she thought, was that interesting things only rarely occurred – and it was just her luck that this interesting thing was a private matter.

#

"So how's the whole mayoring thing going?"

Emma was awfully proud of herself. She had been afraid that she'd sound totally inept, but that question was pretty par for her course. She eased a fry into her mouth and munched it, waiting for Regina's response. Regina dug her fork into her salad, inspected the leafy lettuce, and then placed it daintily between her teeth. Emma watched all of this, unaware of how much she was staring.

"As per usual," Regina finally responded. She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "This town will always have its problems. I'm supposed to be happy to sort through them."

"Well aren't you?"

"It certainly is better than other careers I could have chosen."

Emma watched another few bites disappear into Regina's mouth before eating another fry herself. She wasn't particularly hungry, but this was time she got to spend in Regina's soothing presence, so she wasn't about to miss it. After having such a restful night, she no longer wanted to just collapse in Regina's arms – well, she amended, that wasn't exactly what she wanted from the start, but it did sound awfully cozy.

"So you want to be mayor until you retire? There's no other job you'd want to try?"

Regina frowned. These questions were getting awfully personal, she thought. It was as if Emma wanted to be friends – that idea made her uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat and stared out the window for a long moment before answering.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind working with horses." She hadn't intended to be so truthful, but something about Emma made her tongue loose. She turned her attention quickly back to her meal, so she didn't have to see Emma's reaction to her admission. The blonde was quiet for a few seconds but, sensing Regina's discomfort, moved the conversation in a different direction.

#

From the corner of her eye, Regina watched Emma eat. She was used to thinking of the blonde as a savage lacking in most forms of polite mannerism, but Emma was proving to be quite the neat eater that day. She wasn't even licking her fingers, Regina noted. She was a bit disappointed. Part of the reason she found Emma so – interesting – was the woman's childlike demeanor in certain aspects of her life. Regina took another bite, noticing just how closely Emma was watching her eat as well. Emma had no subtle skill, however.

Mostly because it felt polite, Regina asked, "And you? If you weren't sheriff, what would you want to do?"

Emma stopped eating for a moment and shrugged. "I dunno. I don't have a really diverse skill set. Maybe you coulda guessed that."

"Don't sell yourself short." Regina snorted. "You're a wonderful insomniac, if nothing else."

"Show me how to market that and I'm so there." Emma sighed. "But seriously, thanks for helping me get some sleep. You have no idea how much easier it is to sheriff today."

"I can guess."

"Did you know that Tom Clark thinks dogs are ganging up on him?"

"Are they?"

"What kind of question is that?" Emma laughed, but stopped when noted Regina's serious expression. "A real one?"

"There are times when I curse not apportioning funds to police officer training."

Emma sighed. "Excuse me for being raised in a world where dogs don't conspire together to steal bags of money from the local pharmacy."

"Bags of money?"

"That's what he says. One dog distracts him while the other loots the till."

Regina finished her salad and stood. "I need to get back to town hall. You'll have to fill me on the simply thrilling details later."

Emma leapt up after her. "Does that mean I can see you later?"

#

Regina stared at Emma's excited expression and her resolve weakened. Rather than push Emma fully away, for both of their own goods, she relented. It didn't mean they would sleep together, Regina thought. Just that Emma was allowed to come by later.

"Henry and I will be having dinner at five thirty sharp."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Take it as you will."

Emma wanted to sprint off after Regina, but she realized the effort would be wasted. Regina had things to do and didn't need a blonde shadow clinging to her. For all Emma was starting to accept her connection to the brunette, she didn't think Regina was nearly as willing as she was to admit that there was something brewing between them.

She wandered up to the counter and leaned against it until Ruby finished the task of swabbing down the espresso machine. When she had the brunette's attention, she sighed loudly. Ruby laughed, threw a white towel over one shoulder, and gestured for Emma to follow her as she cleaned some tables after the lunch rush.

"That looked cozy over there."

"Did it? Did people see? What did they-"

"Emma, calm down. People saw, but it was just the mayor and the sheriff having lunch. The only remarkable thing was how calm you both were." Ruby cleared the dishes off the first table and wiped it down. "Honestly? It looked like you two were kinda getting along, and that's more of a relief than anything else. You two are like the Batman and Superman of this town. One sorta feared but still respected, the other like a beacon of light in the darkness. We'd much rather see you work together than fight each other."

"I'm Batman, right?"

"Oh, haha."

"Man, but this makes Regina both Batman and Kryptonite."

Ruby fixed her with a stern look. "So you're admitting it?"

#

"Admitting what?" Emma folded her arms over her chest. "That Regina has this magical power to just like tear down my defenses? News flash, she does that to everyone."

"Yeah, but you're the only one who likes it." Ruby carted her load to the next table and gave it similar service. "I'm just surprised that you're open about your little crush."

"It's not a crush," Emma huffed. "I don't know what you're talking about. My arrangement with Regina is just so that I can sleep. Nothing more than that."

"Oh." Ruby flicked her towel at Emma's side. "Tell that to the love-sick puppy dog expression you wear when she walks away from you."

"You're the only one here with a puppy dog expression." Emma felt the will to fight fleeing her. Maybe discussing the whole thing with Ruby would clarify her horribly tangled emotions. "But do I really look like I like her?"

"Honestly? You look like you love her."

Emma's mouth suddenly felt much too dry. "That's just – I don't-"

"I'm just telling you what I see."

"I have to get back to work." Emma pulled out Regina's excuse when her brain failed at fumbling through putting its own words together in a cohesive sentence. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

Ruby sighed. "Emma-"

"This doesn't have anything to do with what we're talking about. Totally serious here. One hundred percent."

Emma walked calmly to the door, and then practically sprinted back to the sheriff station. Ruby had to be wrong, she thought. There was no way she felt anything stronger for Regina than mere appreciation – so she liked the other woman's body, and had drooled a bit over the image of Regina topless – that didn't have to mean anything at all. Regina was doing her a favor. Any residual affection was just gratitude, she convinced herself.

#

As dinner time rolled around, Regina tried her best to pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary. She hadn't invited Henry's other mother around for the meal, and she wasn't uncharacteristically excited by the idea. She set her mouth in a grim line and went about business as usual – until the doorbell rang, of course, and then her lips dared quirk up into the smallest of smiles.

"Are you okay?" Henry stared at her, aghast.

"I'm fine. Will you go see who's at the door?"

"I guess…" He dragged his heels. "Do we really have to have green beans?"

"I've already nearly finished making them," she replied, not bothering to glance up. She already knew he was pouting. "So yes. And you will eat your portion, or there will be no dessert."

The doorbell rang again and Henry sighed. He sulked down the hallway with his hands jammed into his pockets. She was supposed to be more lenient now, he thought. He'd heard around town that Emma and she had been getting rather close – at least according to the gossip at the diner. Emma should mellow her out, he decided. But instead she was just as prickly and motherly as before. He shouldn't complain, he knew, especially after everything his mother had done to get him home to Storybrooke safely, but he just wanted a night of pizza and movies and soda and putting his feet on the coffee table—

"Emma?"

"Gonna let me in, kid?" She grinned at him, her earlier confidence returning. She was going to prove to herself just how wrong Ruby was. She was going to march into the dining room, have a pleasant meal with a woman who now tolerated her, and then she was going to go home – at which point, she firmly instructed herself, she was going to sleep alone.


	6. Chapter 6

Henry gladly stepped aside and then immediately latched himself to Emma's waist in a tight hug as soon as she was within the confines of the hallway. She slapped his back a few times for good measure, a little uncomfortable still with such freely given affection – but grateful nonetheless. He was a good kid, she thought, and much of that had to do with Regina's raising of him.

"Please tell me you hate green beans."

She ruffled his hair and then laughed as he pawed it back into place. His minute scowl was an almost perfect replica of Regina's. Emma's laugh petered off as she realized that she really did like Regina's scowl and that already things were not going according to plan. It was too late to abort, though, so she shrugged.

"I'm ambivalent towards green beans. Why?"

"Mom made them." His lip curled back in distaste. "They're gross. You should convince her that I need a dog, so I have somewhere to put them."

"Try your mouth," Emma suggested.

He rolled his eyes. "Somewhere less likely to make me vomit."

"Green beans are good for you."

"Arguably so is acupuncture, but there's no way I want a million needles poking me." He lifted his eyebrows. "And the flu shot. It just makes me get the flu every year."

"I get the point." Emma looked beyond him and tucked her hands into her back pockets. "What else is she cooking up back there?"

"Other than the I'm-going-to-be-green-and-then-puke beans?" He smirked, proud of his cleverness. "She's making sweet potato fries and turkey burgers."

"She just has to make everything less fun, huh?"

"I heard that," Regina huffed. She crossed to the hallway, one hand brandishing a spatula. "Do you want to eat tonight, Ms. Swan? Or will you be leaving?"

"She's the most fun," Emma immediately rescinded. "So, stop trying to convince me otherwise, Henry."

#

Immediately affronted that his blonde mother would throw him under the bus, Henry crossed his arms and frowned. "You started it."

"Nope."

Emma patted his head and strode towards the kitchen – to smell the food, she told herself, not because she wanted to be near Regina. She did not linger a moment as she walked past the other woman, and she certainly did not take a slow subtle sniff to determine which perfume Regina was wearing. It was a light flowery scent.

"You may set the table," Regina said, catching Emma off-guard.

Emma, who had been too distracted by Regina's scent, gave Regina an embarrassed smile. "Oh, sure. Sounds good."

She crossed to the cabinet and rooted around. From Regina's silence, she determined that she was in the right location. When she turned back toward the table with her arms full of plates, she watched Regina's gaze travel back up her body. Pretending not to notice, she hurried to finish her small chore. Though she wasn't sure what to make of Regina's heated gaze, or the shivers it sent down her spine, Emma did her best to ignore the situation entirely.

A problem was only problematic, she thought, if she focused her attention on it. So rather than delve into how she secretly wanted to know how it felt to have Regina's lips upon her own, she whistled as she set plates out and then hummed as she folded napkins. When she finished, Regina's attention was solely on the oven and Emma fought the wave of disappointment that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Ah, yes." Henry entered the room and pumped his fist. "I totally called it."

"What?" Emma placed her hands on her hips and lifted her eyebrows.

"If I skipped out, I wouldn't have to set the table."

"You'll clear it when we're done," Regina instructed, and his smile died.

#

Regina took her place at the head of the table and gazed at the two persons seated opposite one another – Henry on her right, Emma her left. She favored Henry with a loving smile and Emma a more hesitant half-crooking of her lips. The blonde grinned wryly back at her and she found her expression becoming more natural as each second ticked past – so she turned her attention to the sweet potato fries.

"How many do you want?"

Emma shrugged. "I dunno. Never had any before. They good?"

"They're okay…" Henry grimaced. "But they're actually almost healthy, so not that good."

Regina shot him a terse look. "Being healthy is not synonymous with bad, Henry."

He moved a few fries around his plate with one finger and pouted. "But they're not even that salty…"

"Everything in moderation."

Emma agreed with that expression in most cases, but when she looked at Regina's face, she had a sinking feeling in her gut that there would be no getting enough of that particular weakness of hers. She could look at Regina's face all day and there would still be wonder to behold. She dragged her eyes to the dark orange fries on her plate. Screwing up her courage, she placed one into her mouth. She chewed slowly, swallowed, and realized that Regina was watching her closely.

"Well?"

"They're great," Emma enthused. They weren't great, but the look of absolute pleasure that flickered across Regina's face was worth the small white lie. They were good, she thought, but she was with Henry. Real fries just couldn't be beat.

"I worry – that you'll collapse on duty," Regina claimed. She hoped that Emma didn't catch her near slip. "If you have any grounds to sue the city-"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Emma assured her. "All injuries tend to be self-inflicted. I'm nowhere near on Hook's level, but my love of the floor is something I seem to express every few weeks or so."

#

Henry couldn't quite put his finger on what was going on between his mothers. Regina would say something sassy, and Emma would flush and fire something equally charming back. This was not normal behavior, he thought. He was used to the ceasefire between them – but to actually look like they were getting along properly? It was baffling. And he wasn't even needed as he usually was to buffer their interaction. Instead they seemed content to socialize with each other.

Feeling awfully left out, he cleared his throat. "I got an A on my last paper, Emma. The one on my hero? You remember, right? I interviewed you."

Her nose wrinkled, but she grinned at him. "I still say I'm a little too obvious a choice. You shoulda gone with my suggestion."

Regina cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. "You had an alternate suggestion?"

"Yeah," Emma responded, her eyes falling back on Regina. "I mean, you did do most of the work in Neverland. At the very least we were equally heroic, right? Maybe even you more than me, because nobody expected it of you."

Henry pushed his beans around his plate. "I know, but I figured that I ought to use you. You're the Savior. It's, like, your job title. You could put it on business cards."

"I'm not the Savior, kid." When he looked ready to argue, she lifted her hand to halt him. "Those titles of yours – they're part of a story, right? But people aren't just one thing. I can be pretty savior-y when I put my mind to it, but I'm also a coward. And your mom? She's not the Evil Queen."

"I know," he riposted.

"We're people, Henry," Emma finished. "So, yeah, maybe I had to be the Savior for a little while, but that's not like a permanent state of being. I can be just Emma, can't I?"

Regina answered before Henry could. "Yes."

#

Emma's cheeks flooded with color. She shoveled more food into her mouth to keep from saying something stupid and let Henry take over. He spewed a few half-hearted apologies before guiding the conversation to his next project – which he felt was too difficult.

"It's just an art project." Emma snorted. "C'mon, kid. Surely you inherited my artistic ability."

"I didn't know you had any." He gazed suspiciously at her. "Are you kidding?"

"No. Get me a piece of printer paper. I'll show you."

He leapt up from his seat, not bothering with the formality of asking to be excused, and darted down the hall. Emma wished she had a collar she could tug at, as now Regina was watching her closely and she felt the pressure of the brunette's gaze. She settled for stealing a few green beans from Henry's plate. At Regina's disapproving sigh, Emma grinned.

"Cut him a break. We all have least favorite veggies, right? I hate asparagus."

"Brussels sprouts."

"See?"

"The problem, Ms. Swan, is that Henry has ten different least favorite vegetables. I have yet to find one he does enjoy."

"Have you ever given him artichoke?"

"I have not." Regina picked her fork up and set it neatly down beside her spoon. She arranged them, rearranged them, and then tucked her hands under the table to keep from fidgeting. "I have never had artichoke, either."

"We'll try it," Emma said. "I think you'll like it. The heart is the best part."

Regina did her best not to flush at the wicked smirk Emma sent her. She listened for the tell-tale clatter of Henry returning and then cocked a haughty eyebrow. "I hope you have the skill to back up your claim."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I have a lot of skills."

Their eyes met and Regina felt a rush of warmth flood her belly. The words were innocuous, but somehow her body chose to interpret them as provocative, and not even the thought of Henry returning could extinguish the sudden desire that thrummed through her.

#

Henry thundered back down the hallway, skidded across the hardwood floor on his socked heels, and slapped a paper and pencil in front of her. He took his seat once more, but his meal was totally forgotten in his enthusiasm about Emma's unknown skill. In order to properly perform, Emma sucked her lower lip between her teeth, gnawed upon it, and then began to draw thin lines. Henry watched the speed of her pencil with amazement glinting in his eyes.

"What are you drawing?"

"It's a surprise," she responded, her gaze not leaving the paper – except once to gauge Regina's expression. She then focused back in and continued sketching. Five minutes later, she slid a cartoon version of Regina across the table and into Henry's waiting hands. "Voila."

"This is actually kinda good."

"Oh, thanks." She rolled her eyes. "I told you. I have some artistic ability. Never took any classes, though, and you can't really turn this into a job, y'know?"

Regina peered at the accurate depiction of herself. "Is this perhaps the answer to my question at lunch?"

Emma shrugged and rubbed the back of her neck. "How would you turn sketching dumb little cartoons into a money making enterprise? Naw, I developed the skill after years of nearly daily detention. It was just a way to pass the time, and I think that's how it ought to stay."

"So what's your answer?"

"I'd hoped you would have forgotten the conversation…"

"Certainly not."

"Okay." Emma drummed the pencil against the table. "My answer is – and this is totally hypothetical and could never actually happen-"

"Get on with it," Henry groaned.

"If I'd had the time when I was younger, I would have wanted to take karate lessons. I always wanted to be a ninja."

Whatever it was Regina was expecting, it certainly was not such an honest and childish response. The warmth in her stomach spread up into her chest and she couldn't keep her fondness for the blonde goofball from her smile.

#

"So you're totally going to do my project for me, right?" Regina coughed loudly and with purpose. Henry's eyes darted toward her; he sighed. "You'll help me complete the project on my own, right?"

"Whatever I can do to help, kid."

Regina dug into her meal. This was almost a family dinner, she thought. Emma could be part of her family. She didn't want to think about things that way, but there it was. Not only was it a possibility, but it was one of which Regina found herself growing fonder. She wouldn't mind eating dinner with Emma at her side, and she imagined they might retire after the meal for a glass of cider and some light conversation.

It would be a topical discussion at first – of safe issues, such as the weather and Henry's school work. Emma would respond in her unique combination of not wanting to step on toes, but really wanting her point to be heard. Regina would laugh lightly, in genuine good humor, and then perhaps, after a few glasses of alcohol, they might discuss spending more time with one another. Regina's grip on her fork tightened.

She was lonely – and she could easily admit that. Henry was fine company when he was home from school, but he did little to alleviate the near total isolation from the town. They came to her office and complained, but it was clear that they either feared her, or put her on a pedestal. She had so few people who treated her as an equal that it didn't bother her that Emma was only there to solve her sleeping problem. The blonde woman let her be Regina, and that was good enough.

Feeling guilty for even thinking it, Regina wished that Emma's sleeping problem never dissipated. She hoped that day after day, Emma was forced to her doorstep for relief.

#

Henry cleared the table when they were finished eating, grumbling and groaning every step of the way. Emma knew it wouldn't help if she laughed, but he was purposely acting like a clown and the melodramatic frown was funny – she tittered when he settled his mournful gaze on her.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Then don't look so silly."

The frown intensified, but before Emma could heckle him again, Regina cut in. "If you can load the dishwasher, there'll be ice cream in your future."

His forlorn expression vanished and he sprinted to do the simple chore. Emma sighed and leaned back in her chair. Mothering seemed to come so easily to Regina – all Emma seemed to do was intensify the situation and not in a positive fashion. She was more likely to tease Henry than to maintain an authoritative position.

"And why, Ms. Swan, do you look so glum?"

"I was just thinking that you're pretty good at all of this – this family stuff."

"I've had years of practice, if you recall."

"Right, right. You soothed every fever, changed every diaper, yadda yadda yadda. I just mean, it comes so easy to you."

"That's not necessarily true." Regina watched Emma's face quirk from downtrodden to slightly hopeful, all with a lifting of the eyes and a creasing of the forehead. "Nobody has all the answers, Ms. Swan, but we do what we think is best. Our choices are not infallible."

"Oh, I know that…" Emma chuckled, but Regina didn't detect any humor in the noise. "Henry got lucky, I think."

"I don't think luck had much to do with it."

"Oh, right. Rumplestiltskin and fate and future-seeing."

Regina nodded. "In the cosmic sense, I suppose we were all lucky. Things have aligned quite nicely, wouldn't you agree?"

Emma met her gaze and smiled. "I'd say so."


	7. Chapter 7

"Okay. The dishwasher is all loaded," Henry reported. He stared expectantly at Regina. "So… ice cream?"

"We just ate."

"So?"

"So you're going to get a stomachache." She watched him. If it was a staring contest he was after, she'd give it to him – and she'd win. He hadn't had the years of practice she'd had. "Ask me again in half an hour."

He sighed dramatically, lifted his hands in defeat, and slouched away. Emma laughed quietly – glad to see that some part of her had carried through to him. She had been an expert skulk-er in the years of her youth, and his posture mirrored how she used to carry herself.

"Y'know, I don't think I've thanked you recently for letting me a part of his life."

"No thanks are necessary."

Emma met her gaze steadily. "Thank you, Regina."

Shifting uncomfortably, and aware that she was willingly losing a staring contest, Regina transferred her gaze to the far wall. Positive recognition was a foreign concept. Praise for her accomplishments usually ended up delivered to someone else – that or her efforts were largely ignored. To have Emma so openly admit that she had done something good, and that it was appreciated, made Regina want to squirm.

"You're very welcome."

Emma rubbed her stomach and stood. "Well, I know I could probably stay for dessert, but I've taken up enough of your night, wouldn't you say?"

Regina wouldn't say. "You can stay longer, if you'd like."

Emma wanted to, but if she stayed longer she'd never leave. Though that was a prospect that was incredibly tantalizing, she didn't think Regina would react well to a permanent, uninvited houseguest. She forced a smile onto her lips and shook her head.

"I have some things I need to get done. Important things. But maybe I'll see you again sometime this week?"

#

Despite her desire for Emma to stay, Regina nodded curtly. "Very well. I'll see you out."

Emma walked as slowly as she could to the front door. "The meal was delicious."

"Thirty years of practice."

"I'm still impressed. I've had nearly thirty years to learn, and I still struggle with anything beyond the microwave or boiling water." Emma slipped her thumbs through her belt loops. "Now that I've completely put you off my ability in the kitchen, if you'd ever want to someday sample my cooking…"

"Are you inviting me to dinner?"

Emma's cheeks reddened, and she hid her embarrassment by leaning down to put her shoes on. "I mean, yeah. If that's not – Well. Okay, so it's a little like – the thing is…"

"Will you poison me?"

"I'm not that bad," Emma retorted. She stood straight once more. "Anyway, uh, see you around."

Regina lingered in the doorway as Emma hurried down the path. She was going to accept the blonde's invitation, but hollering was so uncouth. She'd accept more quietly the next time she came face to face with the other woman, which she hoped would be shortly thereafter.

She shut and locked the door. When she turned around, she found Henry sitting on the stairs, his gaze curious.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Did Emma just ask you on a date?"

Dinner and dating were not synonymous, she thought. Still, the thought of going on a date with Ms. Swan was awfully tempting. The woman could clean up well, Regina determined, though she'd never given the topic much thought. A sudden flight of fancy overtook her, and she let herself imagine Emma approaching the door in a form fitting red dress, blonde hair falling in elegant curls over one shoulder. She would be wearing –

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

She snapped back to reality, gave him an insincere smile, and responded, "Yes, quite."

#

Emma took her time walking home. She lifted her face to the dark sky and inhaled the cold air slowly. She enjoyed the smoke-like puff of breath that hung in the air beside her mouth when she exhaled. She hadn't realized that it was getting so cold once again. Her ears were a bit cold, but she didn't let that bother her. She'd just had a wonderful evening, after all, and she hadn't totally botched things.

There was a chance, she thought cheerily, that Regina might invite her over again. Maybe it would become a thing. A Swan-Mills Family dinner at least once a week. They would sit and talk about Henry's school work, or shenanigans in Storybrooke that Emma had to take care of, or Regina's latest mayoral plot. They'd laugh and smile, and things would just feel right all the time. Emma grinned. She'd just have to be on her best behavior.

The trouble was, she wasn't going to feel much like behaving if she couldn't get to sleep that night. She spotted the apartment on the horizon and sighed. Snow was full of 'helpful' ideas, like a glass of warm milk right before bed, or a CD of white noise. Nothing helped, Emma had argued, so she wasn't going to try a barrage of useless things that would only annoy her, rather than help her sleep.

Snow had looked so hurt, but Emma knew that her best shot at sleeping, if it didn't occur naturally, was curled up against Regina. The idea still made her uncomfortable – she hated relying on other people because, as experience had taught her over and over again, other people were assholes. They walked away when it was convenient for them and left her sad and alone, and wondering what she might have done wrong.

Regina was different, she told herself. Still… she couldn't be entirely sure.

#

By eleven o'clock, Emma knew she'd made a horrible mistake in turning down Regina's offer to stay longer. She was wide awake, thoroughly exhausted, and frustrated on a number of levels. She rolled onto her back, stared at the ceiling, and hated everything. When she could no longer bear the silence and the dark, she sat up and kicked her legs out of bed. She tip-toed down the hallway to the living room – which unfortunately abutted Snow's sleeping quarters – and settled down onto the couch.

As quietly as she could, she turned the television on, slid a tape in the VCR, and set about watching the corny soap operas that Mary-Margaret used to spend most of her free time watching. The woman had been meticulous in her recording schedule. As a teacher, she'd never been able to watch the daytime shows when they aired, but she'd managed to record each and every episode for later consumption. Emma had originally laughed, but now, after watching a few episodes, she too was curious who Ricardo's mysterious twin brother was.

She got through the episode with the secret marriage of the two youngest characters before a knock at the door startled her. The knock was quiet and nearly imperceptible – but Emma heard it and immediately headed to the door to investigate. It could easily be someone trying to break in, she thought. The thief might have accidentally tapped the door as he finagled the lock. To protect herself, Emma grabbed a rolling pin from the kitchen and approached the door.

Heart thudding madly in her chest, and mind racing with soap opera-esque scenarios, she settled her hand on the doorknob. This could be her long lost brother or sister, she thought. This town was wonky enough that she might very well have six siblings Snow and David were hiding from her. She braced herself and opened the door.

#

Regina looked at Emma, looked at the rolling pin, and then looked wholly amused. Emma flushed and hid the makeshift weapon behind her back. Making sure to only talk in the quietest of tones, so as to avoid rousing Snow and creating a very interesting political situation in the doorway, Emma asked Regina what she was doing there.

For a long moment, Regina was silent. She couldn't just say that she thought that perhaps Emma wouldn't be sleeping very well and might need assistance, or that she was concerned about the blonde in any fashion. She settled for a disinterested sigh.

"I'm here because I assumed you would be unable to sleep. Of course, I would assume that most of your line are incapable of doing the simplest of-"

"Oh thank god." Emma grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. "I'm not above begging."

Regina's mouth went dry at the thought, but she chastised herself – this was not a sexual matter, after all. This was about Emma getting the bare minimum of rest. She shouldn't be trying to picture the other woman naked, nor should she be imagining Emma in a series of compromising positions. She was glad she didn't blush easily, but her cheeks warmed and she was sure Emma could feel the heat radiating from her face.

"What's this garbage?" She spotted the television, still playing the soap opera, and knew a good distraction when she saw one.

"My Restless Heart," Emma responded. In the hopes of looking just a little less lame, she added, "They're Snow's old tapes. They're like the only thing around to watch right now, unless you like infomercials."

"I've never had time for this sort of thing."

Emma watched Regina's eyes flit across the screen. "That's Miguel, Ricardo's mysterious twin brother. Everyone thought he died years ago in a skiing accident, but he showed up three episodes ago."

"Fascinating."

"…Did you want to watch some?"

#

Regina wasn't sure how she ended up on Snow White's couch watching the woman's pre-recorded soap opera tapes, but with Emma's head in her lap, she honestly couldn't come up with a single complaint about her current situation. Well, that was an exaggeration. Snow didn't keep the tidiest of homes – Regina could see fingerprint smudges on the glass surfaces, and dust bunnies in the corner. The other brunette was all about creating a safe, warm, positive, ooey-gooey environment – but Regina wanted to tell her that it was breeding disease, not good feelings.

Yet she could do no more than run her fingers through Emma's hair as she watched the horribly produced television show that Emma seemed so enraptured by. She could, of course, predict the oh-so-surprising twists and turns of the plot, but the blonde delighted in each unforeseen change. The woman was somewhat akin to a small child. If she stopped to think things through, Emma would most likely be able to guess the plot as well, but Emma was more concerned with staying in the moment and taking things as they happened.

It was better that way, Regina decided. Obviously Emma enjoyed the show more than she ever would – and it was likely due to their disparate manners of viewing the same content. Regina sometimes wished she could turn the tactical portion of her brain off, but she'd been trained too long to be a strategist. If she couldn't predict how the enemy was going to move, she couldn't plan her strikes. Now, it made watching television and movies a bore.

"Are you bored?" Emma's head twisted up to get a better look at Regina. "You stopped… Nevermind."

Regina realized that while she was thinking, she'd set her palm on her lap. Emma had not only noticed her petting, but didn't want it to stop. She frowned.

#

"No, I'm not bored," Regina returned. "This is truly – thought provoking."

"We can turn it off."

Regina forced her hand back to Emma's head and resumed running her hands through the blonde's hair. Emma settled back against her and she stared at the television once more. "So that's Ricardo?"

"Miguel. Ricardo's brother," Emma murmured. She was getting rather sleep, but she was also keenly aware how close to the apex of Regina's thighs her head was. Her heart was hammering too quickly to let her rest, but she was able to concentrate on the television – just barely. If she moved just a bit, she could have her way with the older woman.

"And why is he kissing that woman?"

"He's convinced her that her husband perished at sea."

"But he didn't?"

"No."

"So where is he?"

"He lost his memory."

"I can see why Snow enjoys this story."

Emma chuckled and closed her eyes. Regina's lap was entirely too comfortable, she thought. The soap opera blared along, but she stopped paying attention to that as Regina's scent overwhelmed her. She twisted her head to get a stronger whiff. Rather than push her away, Regina pulled her closer. Without a word, she nested her nose between Regina's thighs.

"Ms. Swan."

Emma hummed her approval. "Hm?"

"Shall we move to the bedroom?"

Emma's eyes opened – and she was forced to realize that she had fallen asleep on Regina's lap and hadn't actually moved. She struggled to sit up. "You're staying the night?"

"Until you fall asleep."

"Oh."

"Come along."

Regina grabbed Emma's upper arm and helped the blonde to her feet. The faster she could get Emma to sleep, the sooner she could return home to Henry. She was going to leave as soon as she could, but one look at Emma quite nearly changed her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Emma leaned heavily against her as they moved toward the stairs. She could have walked on her own, but this was an excellent excuse to connect their bodies as much as possible. She felt a little juvenile, but she was just tired enough to not care. Regina was willingly heading toward her bedroom, her tired brain cheered. She wasn't sure why this was such a victory – but it felt nice not having to ask for something she really wanted. Regina was just going to give it to her. It felt like Christmas and her birthday had come early.

She managed to get up the stairs without opening her mouth and potentially embarrassing herself. She certainly had no interest in explaining the somewhat inappropriate dream she had been having on the couch. When they reached her bedroom door, Emma's mouth opened without her say so.

"You're really pretty."

Regina stopped short and stared at her. "I was under the impression you were tired, not drunk."

Emma flushed. "I can compliment you, can't I? Without being drunk, I mean. And yeah, I'm tired. So what?"

"You're barely making any sense." Regina tried to ignore Emma's words – the blonde was clearly unaware of what she was saying. Any kindness from Emma's lips right now was to be taken with a grain of salt. If she could manage the same statement while wide awake and sober, Regina might believe her. In Emma's current state, gratitude could be overpowering common sense or reality.

"I'm serious."

"As am I." Regina guided Emma to bed. "Now lie down."

Emma complied and then waited expectantly for Regina to settle in beside her. Throwing caution to the wind, she bypassed using her pillow and settled directly against Regina's chest. Well, Regina thought, extricating herself later would certainly be a challenge.

#

Regina knew she shouldn't be pleased by how close Emma snuggled to her. The blonde was latched tightly to her, as if she were an oversized teddy bear and Emma a small child. What surprised her was how adorable the blonde was in sleep. Their first afternoon together, she'd been too embarrassed by the situation to really take everything in. Now, though, she was used to how things were. She took the time to scan every inch of Emma's relaxed face – from the slightly slack jaw, to the soft whuff of Emma's breath. Regina's fingers tightened on Emma's midriff.

She fought the urge to bend her neck and kiss the top of Emma's head. Her responsibility was to lull Emma to sleep, not to act like she was the blonde's partner. The concept was utterly ridiculous, and the growing urge was to be suppressed at all costs. Instead, she compromised with herself and allowed her fingers to rub small circles along Emma's shirt-covered stomach. This was safe, she thought, and not unreasonable. If Emma awoke, she would have nothing to complain about. Regina nestled down against the pillow. Emma's bed was comfortable – not as good as her own bed, but still useable – and she was on the border of falling asleep.

That couldn't happen, she reminded herself. Henry may have been old enough to take care of himself for one evening and morning – and he often did babysit himself when Ruby was busy – but she wasn't ready to think about how independent he was. She needed to be home when he woke up, otherwise he might not eat a healthy breakfast, or make it to school on time. He was a young man, but he was still a boy. He was her little boy. Hers and Emma's, she amended. She gave in and kissed the blonde's head.

#

"When I saw you standing on my walk, looking unsure of yourself, but determined, with Henry by your side, I knew then. I knew you'd be a pain in my side, but I didn't know how attractive that particular attribute would be," Regina whispered. She ran lifted her hand to trail her fingers along Emma's jaw. "I must be tired if I'm admitting any of this. Even if you are asleep.

"The fact remains that you are a challenge, in everything you do. You don't expect anything from me, but myself. You never knew me as the Queen, and so you still do not see me as such. You know what I've done, but it's distant – you've heard the history, but it is all just stories to you. Bedtime stories to scare children into behaving.

"I am torn now between making you realize how awful I was – how awful I am – and just letting your rely so heavily upon me. I told Henry the edited version of my story when he was very small, but you'd see through that bias. You see through me on a daily basis, after all, with no more effort than if you were reading my motivation in a book.

"Is it selfish of me to wish you to remain ignorant?"

Emma murmured nonsensically in her sleep. Her lips brushed Regina's collarbone and Regina fought a pleased shiver. To maintain control, Regina tried to shift away, but Emma cuddled closer. Realizing this was a losing battle, Regina sighed and allowed the sleepy affection. Nobody could see, she thought, and so there was no harm in snuggling. She was the only witness and she would deny it to anyone who dared question her.

She hated just how much she liked this. There were times in Henry's childhood during sickness or fear when he would crawl into her bed, tremble in her arms, and she would feel like she was doing something completely right. This with Emma felt the same way. She had done so much wrong, but with Emma so close against her, she got the feeling that she had a second, or third, or fourth chance to set herself right.

#

"Emma?"

Regina froze, her arms wrapped conspicuously around Emma. The door swung open and her heart clenched in her chest. Snow paused when their eyes met and Regina's tongue felt too thick for her mouth. For the first time in her life, she didn't have a scathing comment for Snow White ready. She barely had an excuse for what she was doing in Emma's bed, let alone why she was cuddling the woman closer than was necessary.

"Regina?" Snow frowned. "I heard voices – but I wasn't expecting – are you… is she… Regina?"

"Didn't mother ever teach you that a gaping mouth attracts flies?" Regina finally got out. She tried to unwrap her arms, but Emma just grumbled and clung to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Making sure Storybrooke's Sheriff is capable of doing her job," Regina snapped. "Which is apparently more than you can do."

That slur seemed to cut Snow particularly deeply. She frowned and shook her head. "You've probably cursed her-"

"Because this looks so much like something I actually want to do."

"…It does," Snow responded slowly, her eyes taking in the full picture of the pair curled up together. It looked rather cozy – and Regina looked rather like David did when her head was pressed against his chest. She'd woken many mornings to that same look of fond contentment in his eyes – no matter how hard Regina tried to hide it behind her sharp words.

Regina struggled to free herself from Emma, no longer caring if the woman woke up. This aggravation made the whole situation too much of a hassle. If Emma was desperate enough, she could seek Regina out at home.

"Mm, Regina, please."

Regina held perfectly still as Emma's hands trawled along her abdomen. She avoided eye contact with Snow and wished she hadn't come over. No amount of comfort in Emma's presence was worth this mortification.

#

"I'll… just…" Snow stepped back toward the hallway. "Leave you to it?"

"Good. This is none of your business." Regina realized that her new hold on Emma was possessive in nature, but she made no move to change it. Movement would only draw Snow's attention, she decided, so it was best to remain still. She glared the other woman down. "Well?"

"It sort of is my business," Snow tried. "She's my daughter."

"She's nobody's daughter. You made sure of that when you stuck her in that dresser."

Snow flushed. "You forced my hand."

"You always had a choice. You gave her away to save your kingdom. How utilitarian of you – one life to save thousands. It must have been so hard on you." The taunting in Regina's voice was due mostly to the late hour and the compromising situation. She would have been snide, she thought, but not nearly as biting if this exchange occurred at noon, or in public. "In the meantime, Emma has made it clear that while she's giving you a chance, you have no claim on her."

"And you do?"

Regina gestured to how tightly Emma was holding her. "I think that much is obvious."

The conversation was ultimately worth it, Regina found, as Snow's face blanched whiter than usual. "That doesn't mean anything."

"She comes to me when she needs to sleep," Regina stated. She could be crueler, but the facts needed no embellishment. "She tried you, and you failed. I'm what she needs and I'm who she wants."

So she embellished a bit, she conceded. Snow, however, didn't know that and looked positively crushed. "She wants you?"

Regina's smirk intensified. "We're willingly in the same bed, are we not? You don't know what we were doing before you arrived."

"Oh – you can't-"

"I can and I did."

#

When the door clicked shut, Emma's head bobbed up from Regina's chest. She stared around the door room blearily before settling her nearly shut eyes on Regina's face. The brunette did her best to appear impassive, but Emma read her expression fairly easily.

"Were you harassing Snow?"

Regina scowled. "No, of course not. Do you see her around here somewhere?"

Emma didn't bother checking the room. She lifted an eyebrow. "Do you really have to antagonize her?"

"You say it as if you believe me to be an addict. I can stop whenever I want."

"I'd like to see that." Emma's face lit up in a tired grin. She settled back down, her fingers slipping beneath the hem of Regina's shirt and grazing the sensitive skin of Regina's hips and lower back. She was strangely proud of the sudden hitch in Regina's breath. "Do you really have to go?"

"I can't leave Henry-"

"I know," Emma replied, though her mouth was mashed against Regina's collarbone and her words slurred. "But you're so perfect."

"What?"

"Mm."

Regina wanted to shake her awake again – she needed clarification of Emma's statement. Had she misheard? Or, she wondered, was Emma somehow serious? She tried to maintain control over her emotions, as she'd already determined that compliments from an exhausted Emma weren't worth nearly as much as they would be if the blonde were fully awake. Still – perfect was far beyond being sufficient. Regina had never been perfect in anyone's eyes, at anything.

She closed her eyes for a moment and then tickled Emma back towards wakefulness. "If I were to move us to my home, would you be opposed?"

"Why?"

"We could remain together…" Regina hated how tentative her voice was. She was sure and confident, she reminded herself. "It would be best, as you would sleep and be prepared to protect the city, and I would be home for Henry."

#

Emma had been dreaming.

She was once more in the middle of a field, naked and unarmed. The knowledge that this was a dream did little to quell the churning in her stomach or the fear that bubbled up upon spotting the hordes of townspeople galloping toward her. Their voices were a cacophony that drowned everything else out. Their demands pressed down on her and she felt small, compressed by her responsibilities to make things right for them.

One voice cut through the rest, perfectly clear. "You will be fine, dear. You are doing fine."

She lifted her head from her hands and met Regina's clear gaze. Regina, too, was naked, but appeared entirely unconcerned. The brunette knelt next to her and clasped her hands. Emma shivered as a breeze whipped past, but the warmth of their joint grip staved off most of the cold. She met Regina's gaze and her breath caught in her throat.

"Why are you helping me?"

Regina moved closer, her lips ghosting over Emma's. "Even the Savior needs saving."

Emma pushed forward, enticed by the brilliant red of Regina's lips. Her hands cupped Regina's jawline and she deepened the kiss, blissfully uncaring about the townspeople shrieking around them. In that moment, everything went silent – and everyone else drained away. She was with Regina and that was all that mattered.

She had woken suddenly, and found herself pressed entirely too close to her bedfellow. During their conversation, all she could think about was that dream, how wrong it was, and how right it was. At Regina's invitation, her cheeks flared with color. She wondered if it were possible that Regina knew what she was thinking about, but dismissed the thought. Regina was powerful, yes, but there was no evidence that she was omniscient.

"I'm okay with that," Emma replied. She kept her tone calm and even, and congratulated herself internally for keeping her cool.


	9. Chapter 9

Regina chose not to notice the flush to Emma's cheeks, or the warmth clinging to Emma's skin. She couldn't ignore, however, the very pushy thud of Emma's heart which stated quietly clearly that something had excited the blonde. She didn't care to consider what that might be, however, so she merely gripped Emma securely, thought about her home, and waited for the swirl of purple smoke to envelop them. She was mildly surprised when the smoke was less of a deep, royal purple and more of a lavender, but as they ended up in her bed, she couldn't complain.

Emma, though, wasn't quite used to the mode of transportation. Her fingers dug into Regina's sides and a quiet gasp trembled through her lips. She blinked through the stark darkness of Regina's bedroom, relaxed against Regina once more, and sighed.

"Y'know, I knew it was going to happen, but you just don't get used to magic transportation. Did I ever tell you what it felt like to go through the hat portal?"

"I'm sure you're going to inform me now."

"Like being a square peg being forced through a round hole." Emma considered further and amended, "Like being the last bit of toothpaste in the tube of a desperate dental hygienist."

"And my mode of transportation?"

"Slightly better," Emma conceded. "Just not what I'm used to. It's quicker, yeah, but I'm more of a Bug type person."

"You prefer scrapes with death every time you go for a trip?"

"Yes." Emma grinned. "What doesn't kill you just makes you stronger, right? So I'm like a titan now."

Regina pulled Emma back down to her chest. "Go to sleep, dear. You're clearly slaphappy."

"I'm happy," Emma demurred agreeably. With her nose nestled once more against Regina's skin, she was in no position to argue.

#

Regina yawned and reached for her blaring alarm. She was usually up a smidgeon earlier than the device was scheduled to go off, but she supposed her deep sleep was due entirely to Emma's warm weight atop her. Somehow during the night, Emma had pushed her shirt up over her stomach and had one hand splayed against her skin. She purposely pushed the needy feelings that evoked away and ran a hand through her hair.

"Ms. Swan."

Emma grumbled but pried one eye open. "What?"

"It's time to get up."

"What time is it?"

Regina gestured to her alarm clock. "Five thirty."

"But we barely just went to sleep," Emma complained. "C'mon. Five more minutes."

Regina watched Emma cuddle back up against her and grimaced. She had to shower, wash her hair, shave the necessary areas, dry and style her hair, choose an outfit, prepare Henry's lunch, make Henry breakfast, wake Henry up, gather her belongings for the day –

"Please?" Emma tried. She brushed her lips against Regina's collarbone, not really sure of what she was trying to accomplish. "Just five?"

All willpower fled Regina's body. She slumped against the mattress, let Emma take hold her once more, and stared at the ceiling. Not even Henry had this sort of power over her, she thought. It wasn't fair; Emma was an interloper and the child of her sworn enemy – and as such should have no place in Regina's life, except perhaps as a casualty in her revenge. Instead Regina realized she was all too content with Emma in her arms.

The worst part was that she knew she couldn't push the blonde away even if she wanted to. There was comfort to be had – comfort she hadn't known since she was a young woman. She still wasn't sure if she deserved anything that Emma had to offer, but she knew all too well that she was too self-interested to let go. If she were looking out for Emma's best interest, she would have pushed the blonde away the moment Emma showed up on her doorstep.

#

Emma drowsed quietly, perfectly content under Regina's comforter and on top of Regina. It was a nest of warmth, she thought in her half-awake state, and she was a baby bird. Sooner or later she'd be pushed out onto her own to see if she could fly, but for now she was safe and this was her world. Her dreams overnight had been filled with visions of Regina – not always sexual, she was grateful to remember, but many were. Enough, in fact, that as she rested against Regina's body, she began to wonder what actual contact would feel like. She swallowed a little louder than she intended and Regina stirred.

"Has your request for five more minutes been filled?"

"…No?"

"I've given you seven minutes, Ms. Swan. It's time to start moving."

"Would it be possible to haggle you down?" Emma lifted her eyebrows and smiled playfully. "How much would it take to add three more minutes?"

"More than you have to offer, I'm afraid."

After her dreams, Emma interpreted their banter in a whole new light. Her heart thudded loudly as she countered, "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

It was Regina's turn to swallow awkwardly. She was keenly aware of Emma's hand on her stomach, Emma's breath on her throat, and Emma's eyes on her expression. She worked hard to keep a neutral expression as she found the right words.

"I've seen your resume. I'm fairly certain I know the full extent of your capabilities."

"I used to do a number of extracurriculars, Madam Mayor. I might surprise you."

Determined to change the course of this conversation, and make Emma flustered rather than herself, Regina stiffened. "Very well. List what you have to offer, and we'll see."

Emma's grin faltered. "Well…"

"Well?"

"I can draw?"

"Hardly enough to keep me in bed, Ms. Swan."

#

Emma wanted to profess that she was damn good with her tongue and her fingers, but her nerve failed her. Some hero, she scolded herself – she couldn't even manage the courage to say what she really wanted. Instead she cowered against Regina and tried to think up a skill that wasn't an exposure of her deepest desire but was enough to keep Regina next to her.

"I'm waiting, Ms. Swan."

"I am excellent at making scrambled eggs."

"I thought you were totally inept in the kitchen."

"For the most part – but when you're hungry and broke, eggs are kinda not the worst thing you could eat day after day, so I got pretty okay at making different styles. If scrambled isn't your style, I could try over easy or-"

"You will make Henry breakfast," Regina cut in. "You've wasted fifteen minutes of my time so far this morning. That's ten minutes more than I was prepared to lose."

"And what about you?"

"Me what?"

"What can I do for you? To make this worth your while?" Emma let her eyes rove Regina's stoic face. There was a flicker of something in Regina's eyes, but it moved too quickly for Emma to properly identify it. Her hopeful heart wanted to label it desire, but her realistic mind decided it was agitation. Rather than push her luck, Emma eased back. The moment they were no longer touching, Emma missed the contact and quite nearly fell back down.

With her back turned, she didn't see the momentary regret that opened Regina's mouth, or the self-control that withheld a small groan in Regina's throat. She stretched and sighed. "Any chance you can poof me home after breakfast? I don't really want to jog home in a pair of shorts and a tank top."

"You can borrow my clothing if you'd like. And if this is to be a more permanent arrangement, we'll simply remember to bring a set of clothing next time."

Next time, Emma thought. There was going to be a next time.

#

Regina bent over the counter and slathered a thin layer of peanut butter on a piece of bread. The other piece was already covered in jelly. Over the years she had spent hours perfecting the right combination. Too much peanut butter and he'd spend the afternoon imitating a dog – his tongue lapping uselessly at the sticky substance and his jaws working overtime. Too much jelly and he'd spend the rest of the day with sticky fingers. An even balance went unappreciated by Henry, but she was proud of herself.

Behind her she could sense Emma nearby; she could hear Emma humming, but the noise was quiet and Regina had to move closer to get a better idea of the tune. Emma turned, smiling, and tilted her head.

"What's up?"

"You're humming."

"Oh, yeah. I forget sometimes. Is it bothering you?"

"Not at all," Regina responded, backing away. "I was merely curious as to its origin."

"You ever hear about how I got the last name Swan?"

"I can't say that I have."

Emma turned back to her current task and poked the frying eggs with a spatula. "The first family I was with – that was their last name. I don't remember much about them, except the woman's face. I spent so much time lying in bed, staring up at her while she sang to me."

"This song?"

"This song," Emma confirmed. "I can't remember the words anymore, but I can't seem to ever forget the tune. I tried pretty hard to after they sent me back into the system, 'cause it was pretty painful, y'know, to constantly be thinking about this song from these people who didn't love me as much as I loved them-"

"Is that why you're tentative with Snow?"

Emma lowered the heat on the burner. "I'm not really jumping for joy at the concept of a family in general. They've caused more hurt than good, y'know?"

"Maybe that could change?" Regina snapped her mouth shut and set about furiously making Henry's lunch.

#

Emma hummed a little louder. Regina's comment did odd things to her stomach – it clenched, but not in what she would call a bad way. It was nervous energy, she determined, and anxiety. She wanted what Regina was offering, but she had no idea how to make it happen. All she could do was pretend nothing was affecting her and stay strong. Nobody wanted a cry baby, she recalled, or a trouble maker. She'd be on her best behavior and she'd show Regina that having her around was an asset, rather than a liability.

"You're sure I can't make you anything?"

"I'm sure." Regina paused and toyed with the knife. "Would you like a sandwich?"

"What?"

"For lunch," Regina continued, her cheeks heating. "So you're not eating garbage."

"I'm not a goat," Emma joked. "I don't eat garbage. I eat nutritionally questionable foods."

"That's putting things lightly. I'll make you a sandwich, and you can choose your own piece of fruit from the fridge."

Seeing no other option, and not wanting to displease her gracious host, Emma turned the burner off, plated Henry's breakfast, and went to the icebox. On the middle shelf she found a bowl of apples. Choose a fruit, she thought with a wry grin. What a selection – did she want an apple? Or perhaps an apple?

As if sensing Emma's mirth, Regina added, "There are grapes in the vegetable drawer."

"Oh, I was content with the super wide collection-"

"It's early, Ms. Swan. Save your sass for someone more deserving." Regina smiled to soften the blow of her words. The expression felt odd on her face, and genuine, and Emma stared openly.

"Don't get me wrong, I like your face as it is, but you also look nice when you smile. Different. More – open? Less like you want my mother's head on a stick."

"That's so garish," Regina deadpanned. "I'd prefer a platter."

#

"So not to like miss the point entirely or whatever," Emma began. She listened carefully for any sound that Henry was clattering downstairs for his breakfast. The conversation wasn't inappropriate, but it felt to Emma to be awfully intimate in nature. Once she was sure he wasn't nearby, she continued, "but you sorta mentioned maybe I could sleep here again?"

"I suppose if this is indeed the only way you sleep well – until we find an alternate solution, of course." Regina slipped the sandwich into a plastic baggy and zipped the baggy shut. With that task completed, she dug out two brown paper bags – one for Henry, which she set aside, and one for Emma, into which she slipped the sandwich.

Emma couldn't stop her features from drooping. She was glad her back was to Regina. "Of course."

"You are welcome here any night when sleep evades you."

Emma wanted to interpret that as open invitation – she could imagine spending every spare moment in the manner. Despite her distaste for family life, she wasn't terribly off-put by the idea of hanging out with Henry, or helping Regina make dinner. She was incredibly enticed by the prospect of sleeping with Regina whenever the whim struck her. This house was like a paradise of sorts – isolated from the pressures of Storybrooke.

"Thanks. I'll try not to abuse that too much," Emma replied, though that's exactly what she wanted.

"Good," Regina said, though that was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

"I guess I should get going." Emma hesitated in the doorway, her hand still curled around her apple.

Regina approached, brown paper bag between her hands. "Here. One peanut butter and jelly sandwich, ready for consumption."

"Thanks."

Emma lingered, not quite ready to leave. "So if I were to come back tonight…?"

#

"I would not be opposed," Regina responded. "Now go. Henry will be down shortly and-"

"You don't want to have to explain why I'm here."

"Not at all," Regina riposted. "I simply know that you two will spend too much time chattering away and then both of you will be late, which will in turn make me late."

"And we can't have that." Emma grinned, tapped her fingers against the doorframe, and strode toward the front door. Regina followed behind, ready to lock the door once Emma left. "I know I've been saying this like every few minutes, or whatever, but thank you."

Regina allowed herself a small, pleased smile. "You are quite welcome."

Acting on impulse, Emma leaned in and pressed her lips to Regina's cheek. "I appreciate it a ton. I'm totally ready now to go see if dogs are really conspiring against the pharmacist. Fingers crossed that he's just taking his over-the-counter meds, huh? I don't really want to spend my afternoon playing dog catcher."

Regina locked the door after Emma disappeared down the walk and then leaned heavily against the door. Perhaps there was more to Emma than she assumed, she considered. It seemed that the blonde was fond of her – so maybe Emma had invited her on a date, rather than just a dinner. Regina allowed a seed of hope to plant in her chest. She wouldn't tend to it, she instructed herself, but she would let it blossom if it so chose. It was the first bit of hope she'd felt since Henry was placed into her arms.

"Mom! Where are my pants?"

She shifted off the door and rolled her eyes. "You need to fold your clothing when you remove it, Henry."

"I know, but that doesn't help me know!"

"Check under your bed."

"I already did- Oh! You were right! I'll be down in a second!"

She didn't have time to daydream about the blonde, she chided herself. There were things to do and a household to run.


	10. Chapter 10

Emma jogged down the street, feeling light and bouncy. This day, like the last, had the potential of being a great day. She was rested, she'd kissed Regina, and she had a sack lunch for later. On top of all of that, Regina had invited her back again. So it wasn't exactly a direct "Emma get in my bed tonight," but Emma wasn't terribly picky. As a child she'd been a master of wheedling her way into the homes of others to get a good meal, or a night on the couch.

"Sheriff Swan. I expected you here hours ago." Clark stared quite seriously at her.

She returned his gaze, but incredulously. "It's eight in the morning, Tom."

"I've had the video ready and waiting-"

"It's eight. All further complaints can be addressed to the mayor's office. She pays me, y'know?"

His brow furrowed. "I'll do that."

"Good. Now where's the video?"

He guided her through the store and to the backroom. There was a small display and a series of towers covered in blinking lights. He seemed hesitant to leave her there alone, and warned that this was expensive equipment, but she insisted on working in peace and quiet. Really she just didn't want him coloring every moment of video with his own commentary. Despite her lack of training, she did take her job somewhat seriously.

"Alright, let's see what's going on," she murmured to herself.

She sat, pressed play, and leaned her chin against the back of her wrist. The first few hours she skipped through in a matter of seconds. At the first sign of canine invasion, she slowed the feed and let it play in real time. The first dog trotted down an aisle, his tail wagging and his mouth open. His tongue lolled out, but snapped inside when he found his first victim: a protein bar on the bottom shelf. So far nothing unusual, she thought.

#

She paused the feed two minutes after the first theft. Another dog was loitering near the front desk. He was a mostly white terrier, with a few brown spots on his back, a splash of brown on his face, and grey front paws. There was a red bandana tied around his neck and a brown paper bag in his mouth. The way he looked around seemed a bit too human for Emma's comfort. He waited until Clark ran after his Chihuahua friend before bounding up onto the counter.

Though she couldn't see exactly what he did, the cash drawer popped open. He set his bag down, jammed his muzzle in the drawer, and began extracting wads of money. Her jaw dropped – Clark wasn't crazy, which meant she had a long day ahead of her. Pulling out a pad of paper she jotted down a few notes about both dogs on screen. The small Chihuahua had a darker muzzle and feet and a tan body, but his most easily identifiable feature was the patch of orange fur that stuck up at jaunty angles on his head.

She rubbed her temples and sighed. She was going to have to go out there, confirm that she had been wrong in dismissing his concerns, and then make a visit to David at the animal shelter. No doubt he'd be more than willing to don the title of deputy once more, but she wasn't looking forward to working with him. Though he respected her authority, he tended to think and do as he pleased without making mention to her about his plan.

Better to have two plans, he told her, just in case one doesn't work out. As to the secrecy, he merely shrugged. He didn't want to worry her or try to change her mind, he later explained.

Regina wouldn't make things this difficult, she thought as she made her way back to Clark at the front of the shop. Regina would snap her fingers and the dogs would appear. Emma frowned. Thinking about Regina wasn't getting her job done any faster.

#

Regina sat at her desk, holding a ballpoint pen but making no motion to use it. There was a form requiring her signature directly in front of her, but her attention was miles away. Her phone rang; she let it go to voicemail.

It shouldn't have been so nice, she thought, to have Emma's lips on her cheek. The kiss was so domestic and chaste – and all it did was further enflame Regina's desire for the other woman. It seemed to Regina that if they spent too much more time together, she was going to lose control and ravage the other woman. She was beginning to think, too, that Emma wouldn't mind that in the slightest.

These thoughts were worrisome, however. Regina didn't enjoy trusting others, and though she loved strongly, she was stingy when it came to who she let into her heart. Henry came first, she reminded herself – but apparently Emma came second. Her addiction to Emma wasn't healthy, but she was helpless to stop it. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she wanted Emma in her bed every night, and preferably some nights would involve no clothing and less sleep.

Still, the kiss was a thank you. Regina was smart enough to recognize it as such. She ought not take too much stock in it, she told herself. One kiss didn't automatically mean she could safely assume Emma felt something for her. Her hope was starting to take root, but with it came the same fear that had haunted all her social interactions – if she cared, and Emma left, then she'd be left with nothing all over again.

It was only a matter of time, she knew, until her hope outweighed her fear. For now, though, she could restrain herself. She could sleep next to the blonde and thinking nothing of it. Well, she could tell herself that, she thought and finally turned her attention to signing her name.

#

There arose a large clatter outside her window, so Regina rose and walked to the window. This distraction, at the very least, wasn't blonde and lodged in her brain. She stared down at the street and nearly groaned out loud. Emma was face-first on the pavement, a long rod in her hands. The tip of the rod rounded into a loop, and Regina recognized the object as something used in catching dogs. She snorted as Emma lumbered to her feet – but the derision faltered when she spotted a thin line of blood near Emma's temple.

A dozen yards away, a dog sat wagging his tail. If she didn't know any better, Regina would say he was laughing. He looked somehow familiar, but she couldn't place from where. The thought was ridiculous, as she didn't consort with dogs. The woman she did consort with began her chase anew and Regina sighed.

The woman had clearly never learned how to best catch animals. A human she could chase down no problem, but a dog was quick and wily. At this rate, she was more likely to break herself further than to actually apprehend the animal.

Regina returned to her desk as her phone rang. Instead of ignoring it this time, she lifted the receiver and gritted out her greeting, "Mayor Mills."

"Are you laughing at me?"

Regina smiled and then immediately scolded herself for being so happy to hear Emma's voice. "Perhaps. But you must admit your technique leaves much to be desired."

"There's nothing wrong with my technique."

Regina wasn't sure, but she could have sworn Emma's voice dropped to almost sultry. She was glad Emma was outside and in no position to see her flummoxed expression. She had just talked herself out of pursuing Emma – and the blonde was reeling her back in.

#

"I won't take up more of your time," Emma said, breaking Regina from her thoughtful reverie. "I just saw you up in the window and – well – I thought maybe you wouldn't mind hearing from me."

"I didn't. I don't, I mean," Regina fumbled with her words, trying to get her brain back on track with their current conversation.

She had been spending too much time her daydreams, she feared. It was almost as if she had an idealized version of Emma – which was dangerous. Emma disliked that most townspeople put her on a pedestal, so it wasn't likely she'd appreciate Regina's alternate, imaginary version in the slightest. Regina liked Emma because the blonde saw her as Regina and nothing else, and she knew she owed the blonde the same respect.

"So, go on. Get back to mayoring."

"Have you considered using treats?"

"What?"

"To catch the dog. Food is usually an excellent motivator."

Emma was silent a moment, and Regina could imagine the blush that was probably ravaging her cheeks. "We tried food. The dog… uh… There were like ten of them, all snarling. Foaming at the mouth, too. David and I barely escaped with our lives."

"Outsmarted by a dog…" Regina sighed. "I suppose I don't keep you around for your intellect."

"What do you keep me around for?"

"Your looks," Regina responded before her brain caught up with her tongue. She cleared her throat and tried to keep moving as if nothing had happened. "Anyway, I must get back to work. I have forms to sign and-"

"Mayor things to do."

"Exactly."

Emma chuckled. "Alright. But if I come home tonight battered and bruised, you can't make fun of me."

In the silence that followed, Regina considered Emma's words as much as she dared let herself. Emma called her manor home, she thought. She wasn't sure why that was, or when it happened, but she didn't want to ruin things by speaking out of turn.

"I promise I'll keep my teasing to a minimum."

#

Emma burst into an excited gallop when the phone call was concluded. She was going to catch this stupid dog no matter what. She'd have something to show for her day – an interesting story to tell over dinner when she got home. And that was when she realized she'd called Regina's house home to the brunette's face. She skidded to a halt, grabbed her phone, and nearly dialed Regina's number once more. Yet she had no idea what she could say to cover up her faux pas. Calling again would only give her a chance to make things worse, she thought. The phone returned to her pocket.

Regina hadn't corrected her, she thought. It was possible Regina hadn't even heard, or noticed, the slip of her tongue. Home was with Snow in the dinky, quaint two bedroom apartment. She was nearly thirty years old and living with her parents – she cringed. It had been wonderful to meet them, but the more she thought about their continued cohabitation, the more she wanted a change.

Not to Regina's of course, she scolded herself. That was some sort of fantasy. No matter how much she wanted to wake up every morning in the comfortable bed, or to make Henry breakfast while Regina made his lunch, it simply wasn't her life and she wasn't going to be an interloper. She could, however, move out into her own apartment, which could be closer to Regina's house.

She spotted the dog a block away, sucked in a breath, and darted off after him again. He was toying with her, she knew that, but she was too stubborn to give up. She'd chase him down an alley, she thought, and then she'd catch him when he couldn't escape. The thing was, though, that he knew where all the alleys were and avoided them. Regina was right, she thought miserably, the damn dog was smarter than she was.

#

"Emma, are you okay?"

Emma lifted her head from her desk and glared at Charming. "Where have you been all day?"

"Catching dogs. What about you?" He shrugged out of his jacket and smiled at her – pointedly ignoring her sour expression in favor of being chipper. He set his hand on her shoulder, got one whiff of her, and bounced a few steps back. "Uh, not to be rude-"

"He tricked me." Emma let her head thud down once more. "One second I'm chasing after him, the next I'm sitting in a pile of trash. Don't ask me how it happened. I have no idea. The damn dog-"

"We'll get him tomorrow."

Emma expression drooped further. "I don't want to do this tomorrow. I want this to be over today."

Holding his breath, he sat on the edge of her desk and rubbed her back. It seemed fatherly, he thought, and he needed more moments like that. He was her father, even if he had missed out on all the milestones. It was never too late to do the right thing, he resolved and rubbed more vigorously. Emma hummed her appreciation – she'd fallen too many times that day to turn down a massage of any sort.

"We'll get him tomorrow," David repeated. "Because I really don't think you're up to it today. You want to take the rest of the day off and go shower? I'll watch the phone."

Emma sighed and nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry for the trouble."

"It's no trouble," he promised. "I'm just glad I could help you out."

She returned his honest smile with a halfhearted grin. With a tip of her fingers, she marched out the door and down the street. He was right. She did need a shower. And while she showered, she was going think up some ingenious plan for netting that mutt. She was just fooling herself, she thought. That dog was uncatchable.

#

Her sour mood washed away as the rank smell did. She spent more time than was entirely necessary letting the hot water beat down on her shoulders – it gave her ample opportunity to think, and shower thinking was often times the clearest thinking she did all day. She was isolated from the pressures of other people and could talk out loud to herself if the whim struck. This shower was no different. She rubbed soap along her belly and shook her head.

Regina wasn't going to remember she said home, she argued with herself. It was a casual slip of the tongue – she braced herself at the thought of Regina and tongue in the same sentence. Her dreams had been fairly vivid and made her curious. Prior to Neverland, she'd never really sat down and considered Regina as a sexual partner – there was too much unresolved between them. She was stealing Henry, and Regina was evil – Emma had thought through this all before.

Now, though, it felt like the air between them was cleansed. Regina had fought tooth and nail for their son and, other than a few distractions, Emma had as well. They were united in their determination to get Henry home safely and some of that camaraderie transferred over to everyday life. Instead of enemies bickering over Henry, they were parents raising him.

Which, in some weird way, meant that Regina was available.

This revelation drove Emma to press her forehead to the shower wall. If she could ignore the horrible reactions she assumed everyone would have to her being with Regina, the picture was pretty much perfect. They balanced each other, and Regina had made it pretty clear that she wasn't as hated as she used to be. They certainly weren't on the brink of ripping each other's clothes off –


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: **The rating has gone up. Please proceed with caution if sexual content offends you.

* * *

Emma would enter after a long day of work. She would have caught the blasted dog in a show of bravery and intelligence, but she would have worn herself to the bone in the endeavor. She'd step through the doorway, her limbs heavy and her body ready for rest. But then she'd spot Regina against the stairwell. The brunette would be lying elegantly, her ankles crossed with one foot twitching impatiently. She'd be wearing – Emma paused to flip through her mental catalogue of Regina's outfits – She'd be wearing a pair of black slacks, clearly tailored to her specifications, a white blouse, and a black vest which would be mostly unbuttoned.

"Ms. Swan, you're rather late today," Regina would say.

Emma would kick her boots off and ease out of her jacket – as if this was exactly what she expected when she walked through the door. She'd smirk confidently and approach – before Regina could get to her feet, Emma would pin her to the stairs. She'd toy with the bottom button of Regina's blouse.

"Sorry I made you wait."

"I'm done waiting."

Regina would surge forward, knocking Emma back. There would be a slight struggle for dominance, but Emma would cede control to Regina – the brunette had, after all, waited a terribly long time for her. Regina would slip her lithe fingers into Emma's jeans.

Emma pressed her fingers to her clit and closed her eyes. She moved slowly, enjoying the combination of hot water raining down on her, the pressure of her own ministrations, and the visions of Regina doing this for her. Part of her knew she would regret this as soon as it was over, but there was no way she was going to stop. She bit down on her lower lip and let her fantasy-Regina do as she pleased.

#

Regina was pleased with her own foresight. She'd scheduled her day to end early, so that she could catch up on things around the house. Henry did his best to keep his room neat, but he didn't help her clean the bathrooms, vacuum the carpets, or any of the hundreds of titchy little household chores that required a few minutes of her time. Today, though, she wasn't going to clean. She was going to nap.

If Emma was going to come over again that night, Regina was going to stay up and make sure that she didn't end up molesting the blonde in her sleep. At the rate things were going, she didn't doubt that her body would betray her mind in such a fashion. To protect herself, she was going to remain awake and in full control of her faculties.

When she got home, she discarded her outerwear, shut the blinds, and crawled into bed. Her pillow was as close to a cloud as she could afford, and her sheets felt fantastic against her skin – and everything was just right for a mid-afternoon nap. She sighed deeply, shut her eyes, and drifted to sleep. But her rest was shallow – she woke minutes later to roll onto her other side. She took her spare pillow and tucked it under her arm. It helped a bit to have something to hold, but it simply wasn't Emma.

She frowned. She didn't need Emma to sleep. The thing was, she realized, that though she didn't need Emma, she wanted Emma. Over the past few days she'd gotten so used to having Emma nestled snugly beside her – the familiar weight pressing down against her was missing. Regina squeezed her eyes shut and sat upright. Thank goodness, she thought, that Emma needed her to sleep. She could pretend this was completely a favor for Emma, and that she didn't benefit in the slightest.

#

The nap was useless. She got out of bed, resigned to a long night of no sleep and a longer day after that. Rather than waste the time, she began cleaning her bedroom and remaking the bed. There wasn't much to neaten, as she preferred to keep things clean, but there were a few things out of place – most notable was a sock that was most certainly not hers, hiding underneath her pillow. She pulled the sock free and examined it. Of course, she thought.

Emma was some sort of chameleon, she determined, because the blonde felt like she fit into every scene and situation. The confidence that made this possible was at times false bravado, but it sufficed to make Emma look at ease. Regina personally preferred her version of looking permanently implacable, but she had to admit that Emma's brash charm was alluring. It was this charm that made it feasible for Emma to discard her clothing in Regina's bedroom as if she lived there.

Regina paused only momentarily to consider her next action. Tucking the sock into her purse, she returned downstairs, stepped into her heels, and set off for the blonde's apartment. This was in no way founded upon her desire to see Ms. Swan, she told herself. This was simply a mission to return a lost article of clothing. If she got to sass Snow in the process, all the better. If she got to spend time with Emma – well that would be the best result. She immediately shut herself down, though. She was not looking to spend even more time with Emma. That was the exact opposite of what she needed.

By the time she got to the apartment, her resolve was crumbling. She didn't know if she could just return the sock now. She might not be physically able to leave.

#

Emma's fingers slid down, the water doing nothing to help her fight the slickness between her thighs. Feeling awfully weak, she slid to the floor spread her legs, and imagined Regina crouched in front of her. It wasn't her fingers delving into her, but Regina's tongue. A tremor built in her leg and a moan ripped from her throat. Her head thunked against the shower wall and her foot slid through the water.

As she came against her hand, she basked in the momentary peace the washed over her. She'd get the dog tomorrow, she told herself as her breathing evened back out. The bigger problem would now be going to Regina's that night and looking the brunette in the eye knowing that a fantasy of the other woman gave her the strongest orgasm she'd had in years.

She got to her feet, laughed at the trembling of her legs, and finished washing up. She wrapped herself in a towel and ran a brush through her hair before she heard the gentle tapping of someone at the front door. Still dripping, she padded through the kitchen and undid the lock. Still feeling light and cheery, she pulled the door open.

"Ms. Swan, you forgot your-"

"Regina!" Emma's hand flew to the top of her towel. She flushed. "I wasn't – what are you doing here?"

Regina mouthed wordlessly for a moment, her eyes dragging blatantly over Emma from top to bottom. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she finally made eye contact with Emma once more. Finding words, however, was difficult and took a moment longer.

"Returning your sock." Suddenly the excuse felt awfully flimsy. Regina reached into her purse, grabbed the sock, and tossed it at Emma. "Here. Good bye."

Emma held onto her sock tightly. "If you wanted to come in or something, I'll be dressed in a second."

#

With a sigh, Regina entered the apartment. She was tempted to follow Emma back up the stairs so that she could rip that towel away and see what was no doubt a beautiful, naked body. Thankfully her self-control had reinstated itself and she managed to bring herself over to the kitchen table. She was unable, though, to keep her mind from wandering upstairs. She clasped her hands together tightly to draw her attention back to the bowl of fake fruit in the middle of the table. Tacky, she thought, and clearly Snow's version of a home-y touch.

"Regina… what are you doing here?" The front door swung open and banged shut, but Regina didn't flinch.

She rolled her eyes and responded, "Taking in your lovely interior decorating."

"Oh." Snow's voice lilted at the end. Her face lit up. "I worked very hard on it. Would you like some tips?"

"No, that's okay. I think I've learned enough of what not to do." Regina finally turned to meet Snow's gaze. "I'm here for your daughter."

Snow's face flushed, first from the insult and then from Regina's designs on Emma. "You should leave my daughter alone."

"I don't think so," Regina drawled. "She's just upstairs getting redressed."

"Redressed…" Snow stuttered for a moment, her cheeks flaring further. "What are you implying?"

"Absolutely nothing." Regina glanced down at her nails and sighed. "I was returning some clothing she left at my house and she invited me inside. I can't take full responsibility for what transpired here today."

"I can't believe you!"

"What can't you believe?" Emma stepped into the kitchen, straightening her shirt and moving her gaze between both brunettes in equal measure. "Regina…"

"I can't help that-"

"Emma, please," Snow interrupted. "Can we talk? Alone?"

Regina shot Emma the most innocent look she could muster – which wasn't very convincing. Emma shook her head, but smirked.

#

"You can't possibly be-" Snow cut herself off and paced angrily in front of Emma's bed. "You do realize who she is, right?"

"Regina Mills," Emma responded. She kept her voice quiet and bland, unsure of what Snow was on about. "Mayor of this fine town?"

"Emma, she cursed everyone."

"Still not seeing the point of this aside."

"How can you have feelings for her?"

Emma's face drained of its color. "How did you know?"

"That's not important," Snow responded, taking Emma's hands into her own. She made Emma sit next to her on the bed and rubbed small circles with her thumbs. "What is important is that you remember who you are, and who she is – and what it could mean for everyone involved. Have you even stopped to think about Henry?"

Emma tugged her hands free. "Ugh, Snow. This is not a conversation I wanted to have with you. I just – it happened really quickly, okay? It like came up behind me and bashed me on the head. But – you've seen her. It's just – how can you not?"

"Easily!" Snow was clearly panicked. She grabbed Emma's wrist, intent on telling Emma of the myriad reasons to not sleep with Regina because, according to her, even if Emma was physically attracted to the woman, Regina was simply a poor choice in mate. "She's why we were never a family."

"We can't keep dragging that out every time you need a scapegoat. We've all made some really shitty choices, okay? And yeah, maybe hers did force your hand, but you still could have kept me. Nobody's faultless, and we've already talked about this." Emma threw her hands up. "So it's in the past. We have to keep moving forward."

"I just worry about you."

"Thanks, but I don't need it, Snow." Emma squeezed her hands before pulling fully away.

#

"Sorry about that."

Emma tromped back down the stairs once more and leaned against the table by Regina. All the aggravation Snow had riled up in her fled at the sight of Regina's half-smile. She wondered if Regina knew – and how Snow had even figured it out in the first place. When it came to emotions, Emma was good at displaying explosive anger and frustration, but good emotions were harder. She didn't really know how to express the plethora of emotions fluttering through her chest – just that Regina caused them.

"Care to explain?"

"Not really."

Regina shrugged and tilted her head. "You should be more conscientious of where you leave your belongings."

"Maybe I left it on purpose. So you'd come give it to me." Emma cleared her throat. Her fantasy in the shower was definitely turning into a mistake, as she apparently couldn't keep it together in Regina's presence. "Well. This is has been great."

"Yes." Regina stood, equally as knocked off balance by the thought of Emma's earlier nudity. As soon as Snow and Emma had walked away, her brain had returned to the tantalizing sight that had greeted her at the door. She hoped her distraction wasn't evident on her face. "Truly."

"Don't mind Snow," Emma finally managed. She tucked one hand into her front pocket and ran the other through her hair. "I don't know what she's on about."

"Will you be joining us for dinner?" The question surprised them both, but Regina kept her face blank. She wouldn't be hurt if Emma turned her down. She would maintain her neutral expression no matter what, she instructed herself. It wasn't as if her happiness was in any way dependent on Emma's presence in her life.

"I'm there."

"Very good."

"What are we having?"

"Henry requested pizza several days ago. I know it is not yet Friday, but-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Emma grinned at the way Regina's face lightened. Even if she was never brave enough to tell the powerful woman about the new feelings brewing within her, Emma thought she'd be content enough making Regina smile.


	12. Chapter 12

"So you won't be home for dinner." Snow opened the fridge and made a show of searching through it. She eventually selected a bottle of water which had been directly in front of her the entire time. "Again."

Emma leaned against the island. "Sorry?"

"Are you actually, or are you just saying it because you think that's what I want to hear?"

This was a trap. Emma cleared her throat a few times and shifted from foot to foot. "I mean it?"

Snow shook her head slowly as she unscrewed the cap on her water bottle. "I want to get to know you, Emma. I want you to be around. But most of all, I want you to want to be around. You're my daughter, and-"

"And we got along better as friends."

"I know this is my fault." Snow stepped toward her. "I've tried too hard, and pushed too much. But we finally have a real opportunity to be together. I think we need to take it."

"You can't force things."

"I know. I just feel so bad-"

"The thing is, Snow, it's not just about you." Emma watched Snow's grip on the bottle tighten – the plastic crackled. "I felt bad for twenty eight years. And I'm really sick of these conversations. Just because I'm having fun with Regina, doesn't mean I'm throwing you and David out."

Snow's eyes twitched at Emma's wording. "So this is about fun?"

"What?"

"You said it, not me." Snow set her water down, her features painted with hurt. "Having a few minutes of fun with Regina is more important than getting to know your family?"

Emma's brow crinkled. She was once against lost as to Snow's real meaning, or why Snow stressed the word fun as if it meant something different. Rather than argue, and beat the dead horse once again, Emma sighed and walked away.

#

Emma marched up to her room and flopped onto her bed. She understood Snow's point, and she empathized to a certain extent. Over the past four days or so, she had spent an inordinate amount of time over at Regina's. The thought might have been worrisome, except Emma knew she didn't particularly want to be around Snow or David. She wasn't used to parents who cared about her existence, and she found that their clinginess was annoying after a lifetime of neglect. Her heart thrummed as she thought about their most recent disagreement – Snow had a right in the abstract, she supposed, as a mother to complain about who she spent time with. Reality, though, was different. Snow

Regina's attention was somehow different. She could hardly fathom why, but it was true. Perhaps it was the disinterested way in which Regina went about things. When Snow asked about her day, it felt cloying and demanding – like Snow had grubby hands all over her. Yet when Regina casually inquired, it felt like something she could say no to and not offend.

As her heart rate calmed, she pulled herself out of bed. She grabbed a bag from her closet and tossed a change of clothes in. Jacking her heart rate up again, she decided impulsively to change her outfit as well. She tugged her jeans and underwear off and selected a pair of panties she'd never worn before. Blushing a bit, she slid them up her thighs and stared at herself in the mirror. Chances were nobody but her would see them, but –

But she couldn't let her mind wander down that path. She selected a clean pair of jean and a fresh blouse. The shirt was a bit dressier than she would normally wear, and Regina would no doubt comment upon the change, but she felt like she looked rather nice.

#

On her way out, she passed Snow in the kitchen once more. Not wanting to leave things as they were, she hefted her bag from hand to hand and sighed loudly. The noise drew Snow's attention, and Snow's mournful gaze. Emma wondered what had died.

"Why don't we have a – a something on Saturday? Just the two of us?"

"And David?"

So much for some sort of girl's day, Emma thought. Rather than complain she nodded. "If you want."

"As a family?"

"As a family," Emma confirmed. "I know I haven't been around a whole lot-"

"But that's fine." Snow smiled gently. She pulled Emma into a tight, possessive hug. "If you love something, you have to set it free. You'll be back. I just know it."

Especially because they just made plans, Emma thought with an internal sigh. She suffered through the hug, gave Snow a final squeeze, and then drew back. "Don't wait up. I'm staying over."

"Oh, Emma…"

"I know what I'm doing."

Snow's brow creased. "Okay. You're right. If you want to talk about it…"

Rather than hear Snow's incessant 'I told you so's, Emma thought she'd prefer talking to herself in the shower. Still, she wanted to acknowledge Snow's great stride forward. "I'll definitely let you know."

If only, she thought, Snow was still Mary-Margaret. Mary-Margaret had given her wonderful, nonjudgmental support. That was probably due to the woman's pursuit of a married man, but Emma took comfort in the mutual respect between them. They were equals, but that balance had shifted when the curse broke. They couldn't be the same any longer – Snow was her mother, after all. She decided that if she got enough sleep by Saturday, she'd give Snow a chance. She wouldn't expect Mary-Margaret and she wouldn't get upset when she didn't get Mary-Margaret.

#

"We're having pizza!" Henry leapt to his feet. "This is the best news I've ever heard!"

"Henry," Regina called, "there's no reason to exaggerate."

He grinned at her. "And Emma's coming. I don't see how tonight could be better. Okay, well, it could be Friday, too, but I'm not too picky."

Regina fought to keep from smiling at the mention of Emma. She, too, was pleased that the blonde was joining them. She wouldn't be opposed to Emma spending every evening with them and the thought was getting less and less frightening each time it crossed her mind. She could admit it out loud, even, if she wanted to. Henry would make a good audience, she thought. He was a smart boy.

"How would you feel about Emma being here more often?"

"Like she's been this week?"

"Something like that."

He shrugged. "I mean, are you gonna have her gang up on me like before?"

She caught his wry smile and relaxed. Though she wasn't yet ready to explain to anyone the complex feelings coursing through her, she knew she could count on Henry to be a fairly good sport about Emma's sudden and constant presence in their home.

"It may happen."

"Okay, rule number one of you being friends with Emma – no ganging up on me."

Friends. She supposed she could call Emma such, but the title felt insufficient to cover what they truly were to one another. She couldn't say that to Henry, though, so she merely smiled at him and tilted her head in agreement.

"I'll do my best."

"Rule number two – Emma makes breakfast if she's over."

"Excuse me?"

"No offense, Mom, but she makes really good eggs." He grinned at her and she forgave the slight against her cooking. "Besides, you make perfect sandwiches, so she can make me breakfast and you my lunch."

"And then you get to make us both dinner."

"Pizza every night it is!"

#

At the sound of the doorbell, both Regina and Henry stood – Henry darted down the hall and Regina walked calmly after him. Inside, she was racing after him in an attempt to see Emma first, but outwardly she was akin to a still lake. The thought of Emma was like a pebble on her surface – there were ripples, but they would fade. She reached the door a moment or two after Henry and waited for him to let the blonde in.

If the thought of Emma was a pebble, Emma's face was a boulder, or a well-endowed person doing a cannonball. Regina's uncaring mien gave way to a shaky smile that firmed when Emma's eyes met hers. She hated how childish she felt for her genuine reaction, but liked how her joy was reflected almost entirely in Emma's gaze. Yes, she determined, they were friends. They had somehow slipped between the cracks of apathy and ended up on good terms.

"Sorry if I'm a bit early. Just needed to – get out of the house, y'know?"

Henry grabbed her satchel. "Does this mean you're staying over?"

"Did your mom already talk to you about it?" Her eyes strayed back to Regina's face. She considered momentarily that Regina had some sort of magnet in her lips because her gaze kept returning involuntarily.

"I hadn't."

"You were here really early that morning and then you made me breakfast," Henry stated, his expression flat. It was clear from his expression that he was through with any sort of shenanigans. The wool would not be pulled over his eyes.

She shrugged. "I'm not trying to hide it anymore, kid. Yeah, I was here. And I'll maybe be here more?"

"Ms. Swan is having issues sleeping, Henry. I am helping her resolve them."

His expression brightened. "I knew it!"

"What?"

"You're doing nice things now. You're getting better."

Emma caught Regina's gaze and read the sadness that flickered through it. She knew better than to bring the emotional exchange up in front of Henry, though, so she moved into the house and instead asked about the pizza.

#

"I ordered the pizza shortly before you arrived."

Regina sat down on the couch, one arm draped over the back. Henry took his place on the floor, where a jigsaw puzzle was spilled haphazardly. Emma tiptoed around it and sat on the opposite end of the couch. She watched Henry select a solid blue piece and wondered what the final puzzle was supposed to look like. Perhaps an ocean, she considered, or the sky.

"Good, because I'm starving," she eventually replied. "Arguing takes a lot out of me."

"Oh?"

"It's no big deal. I kinda just want to forget about it."

"Did you want to choose a movie?" Henry's head jerked up.

"Henry, I said we weren't using technology tonight. It's family night."

He frowned and sighed. "You're not even helping with my puzzle."

"I've done it before. You wouldn't want me doing it for you." Regina smirked and returned her gaze to Emma.

"Yeah, kid. I've done it, too." Emma grinned back at her and winked as cheesily as she could. Unfortunately Henry saw and groaned.

"You have not. You just think puzzles are boring."

"I do not!"

"Then help me."

With a sigh loud enough to let Henry know how much of a pain this was – and how grateful he ought to be that she was doing this for him – Emma scooted off the couch and took a seat next to him. He offered her the puzzle box's lid and she examined the scene. The blue belonged to one of the dresses on one of the ladies dancing in a ballroom. The corner of the box advertised its fifteen-hundred pieces.

"This is pretty intense for a first puzzle." Emma fiddled with the pieces. "Don't you have any of those puzzles that are like six inches a piece and only five pieces total? That's a bit more my speed."

#

Henry handed her a pale pink piece and raised his eyebrows. "See if you can match this to the pink section."

"I know how puzzles work."

She rolled her eyes and did as he ordered. It was his puzzle, she figured, and so he was running the show. If he wanted her to spend the next twenty minutes awkwardly trying to shove the cardboard piece into every slot, then that's what she'd do. And at the end of her service, if she threw the piece at his head, that was his fault for giving her a task she couldn't complete.

"I suppose puzzles require patience," Regina said, tucking her legs under her. "Something Ms. Swan lacks."

"I have plenty of patience. Just not for puzzles. You should see me when I'm waiting for something I really want."

Regina turned her gaze away before Emma could see the flare of her pupils. Her mind immediately went to all the activities that would leave Emma waiting and wanting – all the activities that were wholly inappropriate to think about during family night. By the time she got herself under control, Emma and Henry were rolling about on top of the puzzle pieces. Emma's fingers were diving heedlessly after Henry's sides, and Henry was squealing, kicking his legs, and begging for her help.

She smiled and shook her head, preferring to stay out of such physical confrontations. She merely laughed when Emma claimed her as an ally. Emma was an oversized child, she thought fondly. Thankfully one that required no parenting, she added as Emma finally pushed Henry away and sat up. Their eyes met once more and her breath fled her lungs.

Outside, with a pizza in hand, he watched through the window and rolled his eyes. Bored with their merrymaking he stalked up to the front door and rang the bell. They better tip well, he thought.


	13. Chapter 13

Emma dug into her pocket with one hand for her wallet, while the other reached for the doorknob. She tugged the door open and found herself face to face with a smirking man with intensely curled brown hair and dark eyes. He balanced the pizza on his fingertips and spun it casually while he waited for her to dig her money out.

"Took you long enough to answer the door." He peered past her. "Looks awful home-y."

"Yeah, sure." She took the pizza. "You look a little creepy."

His grin widened. "Thanks."

"You sure know how to take an insult."

"Why should I care?"

He counted the money she handed him, folded it up, and tucked it safely away. When he turned to leave, she spotted a red bandana in his back pocket. Curious, she thought, but she couldn't recall where she'd seen something similar before. Waving the concern away, mostly because the pizza smelled delicious and her stomach was rumbling, she returned to the living room.

"I'm here to deliver a pizza." Emma consulted her receipt. "Looks like a charge of eighteen thirty two."

Regina rolled her eyes. "And if I have no money because a blonde offered to buy me dinner?"

"I'm sure we can work something out," Emma responded.

She winked and then winced. If Regina took offense to the overt gesture, she didn't show it. When Emma set the box down, she merely handed out the paper plates and made sure they each had a napkin. Emma tried her best to forget how close their conversation had been to the beginning of a bad porn. It was definitely inappropriate to be thinking about Regina and porn in the same sentence with their kid sitting right there staring at her.

She smiled at him. "I didn't know you were into mushrooms."

He pulled one off the pizza and tossed it into his mouth. "They're so gross. I like it."

#

Emma selected a slice, pulled it free, and used her mouth to catch the dangling bits of cheese. She licked at her fingers to clean up the spilling pizza sauce, and then dabbed at her chin. When she chewed, she let her eyes leave her slice. With an audible gulp she realized that Regina was watching her with predator-like intensity.

"Uh, sorry. I know I'm not the neatest pizza eater."

"You have quite the system."

Emma flushed and shrugged. "I'm a bit of an old pro at this. You probably wouldn't believe how much pizza I've had over the years."

"Do I even want to know?"

Henry snorted. "Mom's had pizza like four times since I was born. She wouldn't appreciate what a refined palate you have."

It was Regina's turn to snort. "Refined? Pizza is hardly refined, Henry."

"You just haven't developed a taste for it. Pizza's quite like fine wine." Emma tilted her head up and looked down her nose at Regina. "And coffee and alcohol and everything else that tastes bad at first but then you just keep going and suddenly you're addicted."

Just like Emma, Regina thought – an awful, wonderful addiction. She shrugged. "I'm not opposed to pizza, there are simply better options available in this world."

"Like what?"

"Like…" Ever mindful of their eleven year old audience, Regina bit back her flirtatious comment and shrugged. "Almost anything, my dear."

"Not brussel sprouts."

"Or asparagus."

Catching on, Henry grinned. "Or green beans."

"Exactly." Emma took another satisfied bite of her slice and chewed with as much obvious enjoyment as she could.

Regina glanced down at the game board. "Are we going to play?"

"I'm the dog," Henry informed Emma. "But you can be the top hat."

"What if I wanted to be the iron?"

He rolled his eyes. "You can be the top hat."

#

Regina realized half an hour in that this was a mistake. She'd already caught Emma stealing from the bank twice, and, after catching Emma's eye, had chosen not to comment. Their son, it seemed, was a saavy, bloodthirsty businessman. He was lucky with his rolls, prudent with his money, and vicious with his deals. In the hopes of not letting him win, she was willing to let Emma skim a bit off the top.

She watched her lovely, smart son roll a seven and promptly buy up Boardwalk, all the while leering at Emma, who was hot on his heels. If the blonde rolled a five, she'd end up in his clutches. Determined to get Emma past Go, Regina coughed when Emma rolled and the dice tumbled to twelve. It wasn't cheating, she told herself. No more so than Emma taking money. Emma shot her a grateful look, letting her know she wasn't as subtle as she hoped.

"You got lucky this time," Henry stated, his voice low and somehow dangerous. "But you have to pass by here every time."

"I'm shaking in my socks." Emma handed Regina the dice. "Don't get cocky, kid. Arrogance isn't attractive."

"Hah. Winning is."

"No," she retorted, reaching over to tweak his nose. "Inner strength is attractive, and a nice smile. Being a smarmy asshole just makes girls dislike you."

"I'm not smarmy." He smiled at Regina. "Right, Mom?"

"Perhaps just a bit."

His grin faded into a vaguely disturbed scowl. "I thought we agreed on rule number one."

"Rule number one?" Emma's brows darted up her forehead. "There are rules? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"It was a joke-"

"No it wasn't," Henry interrupted. "If you're gonna be Mom's friend, there are rules. Number one is no ganging up on me. It's not fair."

"Not fair?" Emma tried not to smile too widely at the thought of Regina as her friend. "What's not fair is you owning half the board."

#

"So…" Emma continued a short while later. She had two twenties left and was resting comfortably in jail. "If rule number one is no ganging up on you, what're the others?"

"You make me breakfast."

"I didn't agree to that."

Henry looked up from his pile of money, which he had been organizing and counting with glee, and shrugged. "Then you can't be her friend. It's that simple."

"You can't stop me."

"But think of how much emotional damage you'll be doing to me." He held his hand out. "By the way, you owe free parking fifty dollars. This is your third turn in jail and you didn't roll doubles."

She pushed his hand away. "I'll do it in my own time."

Regina muffled her chuckle with a mild cough. "Do you need change?"

"No." Emma looked at her five twenties and single one hundred and sighed. "Yeah, okay, break this hundred."

Regina purposely handed her one more fifty than was necessary. Henry watched the transaction with curious eyes and then pouted at the appearance of the third bill.

"Are you – cheating?"

Emma gasped at the sight of the third bill. "I think she is!"

"Rule number one, Ms. Swan," Regina tried.

Henry shook his head. "That just says you two can't gang up on me. Nothing about me and her ganging up on you."

"Ms. Swan, if you have any desire to sleep tonight, you will take responsibility."

Emma's lips curled up into a smile. "Yeah, kid. I'm cheating. But that's the point of the game. It's capitalism, Henry."

He pointed to his piles of money. "This is capitalism, Emma. You're just a thief."

"Technically, your mom is like Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor." Emma tossed the spare fifty back into the bank. "Is it wrong that I always found that animated fox attractive?"

#

Regina pulled the covers back and waited patiently for Henry to wiggle in beneath them. She tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and moved to stand – but he grabbed her wrist and stared solemnly at her. Confused, she arched an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"This was really fun tonight. Think we can do it again?"

"Of course we can." When his grip released, she pushed hair back from his forehead. "As long as you promise to let Emma win a game of something."

"I'm really glad you two are getting along. I didn't like having to choose between you, you know? I like it more now that she's here and you're happy."

He settled back against his pillow, his piece said. She lingered a moment longer before shutting his light off and closing his door. She had gotten lucky, she realized. He was mischievous, persistent, and stubborn, but he was also intelligent and kind. None of her old ways had rubbed off on him, and she was forever grateful that a child as pure hearted as him appreciated her presence in his life.

She continued down the hallway, lost in thought. She was apt to ruin things after a while, she thought. Everyone she loved met with some untimely fate, so it was only a matter of time before something went wrong. She couldn't trust that all this goodness would continue – she would enjoy it while it lasted, but she would be ready for when it was gone. She pushed her bedroom door open and brought her eyes up.

Emma stood beside her bed, pants pooled at her ankles. There was a pair of shorts in the blonde's hands, but all Regina could focus on was the pair of sassy panties Emma was wearing. They were tiny, brilliant red, and lace. She blinked several times before her brain caught up with her and convinced her to turn around.

"My apologies, Ms. Swan."

#

Emma flushed as red as her panties and quickly stepped into her shorts. Once they were secure and she could speak without an embarrassing squeak in her voice, she cleared her throat. Regina remained facing the door, so she coughed a bit louder. She shouldn't have worn them, she thought, even if they did make her feel more confident. She hadn't anticipated Regina actually seeing them – or in such a nonsexual way.

"I'm done now."

"Well, good."

Regina licked her lips before turning slowly and meeting Emma's gaze. She refused to let her eyes wander, especially after the wild thoughts Emma's panties had sparked. The hope planted in her chest had exploded into full bloom, as there was no good explanation for why Emma was wearing something like that to a platonic sleep over. But, just in case she was assuming too much, she was going to remain neutral. Ms. Swan was free to make the first move, she thought.

"Yup." Emma shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. There was an unreadable emotion in Regina's eyes, which she interpreted as discomfort. To try and alleviate the tension between them, Emma smiled weakly and offered, "Laundry day…?"

Regina's hope wilted, but she forced a smile to her lips. "I am certainly not judging you for stepping up from your usual fare."

"How do you know what sort of underwear I usually wear?"

Regina broke eye contact and went to her closet to choose her own sleep garb. She had no answer for Emma that wouldn't sound somehow like a come on and it was becoming clear that Emma wasn't interested in her the same way that she was interested in Emma. She sorted through her clothing to give herself a moment to think of something witty.

When that failed, she shrugged. "You seem like a woman with simple tastes, Ms. Swan."

#

Regina settled herself on the far edge of the bed – as far from Emma as she could manage. As long as she was entertaining these less than pure thoughts, she didn't want to get too close. She was already prepared to stay awake all night, if that's what it took, so a bit of distance was nothing. She stared at the far wall and took long, slow breaths to feign sleep.

"He's a good kid."

She didn't respond until Emma repeated her statement a second time. "I'm glad you think so, Ms. Swan."

"It's kinda weird to call me that when we're, y'know… Sleeping together?"

"What would you prefer, Sheriff?"

Emma chuckled. She had taken over the other end of the bed, content to simply be in Regina's presence and understanding from Regina's posture that any form of snuggling or cuddling would not be appreciated. Not that she wanted that, she told herself. Physical contact was too much like that fantasy she'd had. So for now she was willing to sleep on the edge of Regina's bed – the scent of Regina was around her and she could sense the brunette nearby. It was sufficient for sleep, but Emma wasn't tired.

"Emma would be okay, don't you think?"

"I suppose it is your name."

"Unless you think that's weird, too." Emma ran her finger down the sheets. "Y'know what? Forget about it. I don't really mind Ms. Swan."

"Go to sleep."

"Yeah." Emma managed to remain quiet for a full two minutes before letting out a puff of air. "Am I being a nuisance?"

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"So I am?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say that."

"You are not a nuisance," Regina gritted out. "However, you are being fairly pesky at the moment-"

"I just…" Emma pushed her head down into the pillows. "I just don't want to annoy you."


	14. Chapter 14

"You're not annoying me," Regina stated, though her tone came off grouchier than she wanted.

"I just don't want to wear out my welcome."

For a moment, Regina sat perfectly still. She hadn't realized that beyond her own issues, Emma was suffering through problems of her own. The woman across the bed from her had a slew of abandonment issues – though Emma's file hadn't explained everything, Regina had a basic idea of how many homes Emma had gone into and subsequently been kicked out of. Feeling rather self-centered for not considering how her conduct would affect the blonde, Regina eased across the mattress.

"Your welcome is far from worn, Emma."

"Just – lemme know if I'm being a pain."

Regina's arm curled around her middle and pulled her closer. Reluctantly, she rolled over and clung to Regina. She felt weak – but Regina didn't make her feel like weak was necessarily bad. Regina made her feel safe enough to display her weakness. She pressed her face to Regina's shoulder. With her ear pressed to Regina's body, she could hear the steady thud of Regina's heart – a thud that picked up speed the longer she was pressed to the brunette's body.

She drew back an inch and gazed into Regina's eyes. Regina stared back, trying to mask the flurry of emotions that Emma evoked in her. Emma's lower lip disappeared momentarily, and then popped back out of Emma's mouth, wet and red. Regina's gaze lowered momentarily and then lifted again. Emma leaned closer, ignoring the small cries that this was a mistake – that she was about to lose her privilege of sleeping in Regina's bed and all because she couldn't control herself.

It was the panties, she thought. She'd worn them to give herself confidence, and now she was out of hand. Regina hadn't moved, she thought, not closer, but also not away. She could feel the brunette's warm breath against her lips. Now or never, she told herself.

#

Her courage left her.

She had invested so much into different relationships over the years. There were attempts at keeping parents interested in her – which were all futile. Neal had loved her and left her. Every subsequent significant other or lover had eventually walked away. At first she'd blamed the lot of them, but the fact remained that the common denominator in each failed relationship was her. She was the problem, and she couldn't ruin this tenuous relationship with Regina by wanting more than what she had.

"Emma?"

"Good night, Regina," Emma whispered, defeat crushing her spirits. She collapsed against Regina and forced her eyes closed. She couldn't embarrass herself if she was asleep. For several minutes there was silence, but Regina's heart was still racing.

When Regina spoke again, the vibrations rattled up through Emma's ear. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I see."

The moment had passed, Emma thought. They'd had a wonderful evening and she'd somehow managed to muck it up. The almost kiss would linger in her memory for a good long while, though. Their proximity was potent and left her feeling more strongly for Regina than she had before. Emma was no stranger to wanting others to like her, but she had tried to keep herself from getting emotionally invested in any relationship since Neal. Henry had changed that first, and now Regina was tearing more of her barriers down. She wasn't sure she liked it.

"Yeah. So. Good night, sleep tight. All that good stuff."

"You don't seem tired."

"Oh, I'm plenty tired." Emma's grasp on Regina tightened. "Just –"

Regina hummed under her breath – mimicking the song Emma had been humming before with as much accuracy as she could remember. The effect was immediate; Emma relaxed against her. She continued on with the song, even after she couldn't remember the tune.

#

"Why do you keep to yourself so much?"

Regina absentmindedly ran her fingers through Emma's hair. It must be the hour, she thought, because she was actually considering answering. This room felt impenetrable – as if it weren't physically located in Storybrooke, but on some other plane of existence. With the light out and the door closed, Regina decided it was possible. It was therefore possible to bare certain secrets to the world – or at least to the woman snuggled so close.

"While I am no longer considered an active threat, it has been made fairly clear that my presence will not be tolerated. I could, of course, force myself upon the populace but-"

"But that's not really your style these days," Emma concluded. "Kinda shitty isn't? Sitting around waiting for people to want you."

Regina chin nestled against the top of her head. "I suppose you became an expert on that?"

Realizing this wasn't meant as insult, Emma chuckled sadly. "Yeah, a little. I thought getting parents was going to change that, but…"

It was Regina's turn to break in. "But they're already planning for another child, so where does that leave you?"

"I don't know." Emma inhaled slowly to keep her voice steady. "That's pretty much what it always comes down to – either I'm too much trouble or there's a better offer on the table."

"For what it's worth, I believe you are more than sufficient in the role of Henry's mother."

"He's got you, too. Haven't you ever wanted to be just right for someone else? Just you?"

"I suppose."

Emma shrugged. "So yeah. Maybe they won't throw me out now that they're working on a kid they can actually raise, but I'm not enough. Y'know?"

Regina rubbed her back, building some silent courage before opening her mouth once more. It was late, she reminded herself, and safe.

"You are enough for me."

#

Emma's head lifted from her chest. "What?"

"You are the only sheriff this town needs," Regina backpedalled. "You do your job adequately."

Sensing that there was bullshit floating between them, Emma shook her head. Her hand fisted in Regina's shirt. "Regina, c'mon. That's not what you meant."

"You're projecting-"

"Cut the shit, Regina." Emma stared her down. "We were doing great, weren't we?"

"It depends on your perspective."

"Yeah." Emma slumped back against Regina, but her grip wasn't tight and her expression had faded from vaguely hopeful to rather morose.

Regina sighed. She only had enough courage for one moment, she feared, but Emma was crumbling on top of her. Perhaps, she reasoned, she didn't have to totally expose herself to cheer Emma up. She could reveal a partial truth and that should be sufficient to bolster Emma's spirits.

"I meant more generally as well," she began. "You as a person are enough for me."

"Not in our professional capacities?" Emma's voice trembled almost imperceptibly.

"Yes."

"Thanks."

Thanks? Regina wanted to scoff. She'd put her feelings on the line for a measly thanks? She closed her eyes. She was past the point of caring if she did something in her sleep and merely wanted the moment to be over. Sleep, she commanded herself.

"You're angry."

"I'm not."

Emma pinched her side. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Push me out."

"You were never invited in."

"I'm not a vampire, Regina," Emma whispered. "I can come in if the door is open. It's pretty cold outside – would you make me leave?"

Regina was no longer sure if they were talking mentally or physically. She certainly had no interest in kicking Emma out of her bed, but things were getting a bit too intense emotionally. Rather than risk offending her bedmate, Regina huffed and tried to settle back into the sheets.

#

"What's your favorite color?"

"Ms. Swan. This is not a sleepover," Regina chided. She wasn't truly upset with the idle conversations Emma was attempting to instigate, but afraid that she might grow too comfortable once again. Emma had a way of slipping beneath her skin in a manner that was not altogether unpleasant. "I didn't invite you here to gossip or-"

"I'm here to sleep. Got it."

Regina wasn't sure why she kept shutting Emma's enthusiasm for her down. She ought to be grateful and happy that someone wanted to know about her. It had simply been too long since anyone had been honestly interested in anything other than the power she wielded. Emma's interest was both flattering and intimidating.

"I didn't mean to be curt."

"No, I mean, you have work in the morning. Sorry. I'll go to sleep now."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Uh… sure."

"What were you doing earlier?"

"Cheating at Monopoly?" Emma's body tensed, aware that she was sidestepping the real question. When Regina was silent, Emma sighed. "I think you'll kick me out if I tell you."

"I will do no such thing," Regina assured her. Even through the darkness she could see Emma's blonde hair; it shifted as Emma tugged her chin closer to her collarbone.

"You can't promise if you don't know what I'm going to say."

Regina tugged lightly on Emma's hair, frustrated by the constant dodging. Emma grumbled at the treatment, but smiled. Upon realizing that Regina wouldn't see her expression, she sniffed and answered verbally.

"Okay, so I might have been… Uh…"

"Spit it out." Regina's patience was wearing thin. She wanted confirmation of the emotion she'd spotted swimming through Emma's eyes earlier. It was possible, she considered, that they were both dancing around their feelings. But she refused to be the first to admit it.

"I was going to kiss you."

#

Regina unconsciously ran her fingers along Emma's back. As much as she wanted to affirm her own feelings, a sense of foreboding loomed over her. There was a difference, she thought, between physical attraction and accepting everything that came with another person. Surely when Emma realized how much baggage she toted around on a daily basis, the interest would be retracted and she'd be left alone and worse off than before.

Emma was different, she argued. Emma had proven over and over again that she was willing to forfeit her own life and wellbeing for others. Which could mean, Regina reasoned, that Emma would lose herself in any sort of dalliance, so acting upon her desires would be detrimental to the blonde. Either way, one of them was going to end up hurt. She knew she could bear hurting herself – but she didn't know if she was willing to risk Emma.

Emma made a sound somewhat like a purr as her fingers made another trip down the blonde's back. This was nice, she realized. Regardless of what may or may not happen, she liked this. She wanted Emma pressed against her in the calm, dark of her room – which could easily be their room. The yield was worth the risk. She dug her fingers into Emma's lower back.

"I've messed everything up, haven't I?"

"No, you have not," Regina retorted immediately. There was nothing to mess up yet.

"Go to sleep, Ms. Swan," Emma intoned, her voice nearly an exact match for the manner in which Regina spoke. She wilted against the brunette and tried to remain as quiet and still as possible. It was difficult, however, with Regina's fingers alternating between roaming her back and pressing into her. The contact made her want to make some quite salacious noises.

Those fingers moved, though, from her back up her arm and on to under her chin. She tilted her face up toward Regina and their eyes met through the darkness.

#

Emma moved forward cautiously, leaning up on her elbow to position herself just above Regina. They stared silently at each other, neither willing to make the first direct move or wanting to share exactly why their hearts were thudding so quickly in their chests. Emma broke their staring contest first as her eyes drifted down to Regina's lips.

She wondered if Regina was actually willing to kiss her. The fingers under her chin had suggested such, but there had been no verbal confirmation – and it wasn't like Regina was lunging up to capture her lips in what would no doubt be a searing, passionate kiss. Emma blinked those thoughts away; they were doing nothing to calm her down.

Deciding to test the waters, she leaned down quickly and kissed Regina's cheek. She drew back and waited – Regina followed after and kissed her cheek as well. This was a good sign, Emma thought. Feeling a bit braver, she kissed Regina's cheek again but closer to Regina's lips. Once again, Regina mimicked her action.

Their dance continued and Emma edged continuously closer to Regina's lips. Gathering one last burst of wild courage, Emma finally brought their lips together. Regina's mouth melded to hers – what began as a chaste brushing of their lips gradually deepened as Regina's fingers dug into her back and pulled her closer. Emma held tight to Regina's shirt, afraid that if she let go, she'd drift off into space – or wake up and find out that this was just a dream.

She felt somehow connected to the woman beneath her, as though they were communicating even through the silence. She forced her eyes open and found Regina staring quite seriously at her. Not daring to break their kiss for fear of somehow breaking the spell of their moment, Emma closed her eyes once more. The intimacy of looking at Regina was a bit too much.


	15. Chapter 15

Sleep was the furthest thing from Regina's mind the moment they came together. She ought to scold Emma, she thought, or pull away – Anything to stop this madness from occurring. But all she could do was hold on tight and try not to make any sort of noise that would give away the simple pleasure she felt from the contact.

When their eyes met briefly, she noticed fear lingering in Emma's gaze. She could relate, she thought. There was a lot to fear about the situation – Henry accepted that they were friends, but there was no telling how he'd react if he knew the true nature of whatever was going on between them. Emma's parents would no doubt try to forbid their contact. The townspeople would think she had cast some sort of spell. There was so much piling up against them, trying to convince Regina to pull away and call this a mistake – but she couldn't.

Emma broke away finally, her breath coming in shallow pants. Regina immediately missed the feeling of Emma's lips on hers, but wasn't quite ready to admit that out loud. She cleared her throat instead and pulled Emma flush against her body again. They should sleep, she determined, especially before Emma could question what just happened.

"What just happened?"

Regina blinked slowly and cursed silently. "We kissed, Ms. Swan. I realize that the hour is late, but-"

"No, I mean what happened. Like – something's different? Isn't it?" Emma seemed fairly desperate, so Regina seriously considered the question.

"Not if we don't want it to," she responded.

"Oh."

"Did you want it to?"

"Did you want it to?" Emma countered.

There was silence as they sat and waited for the other to say something first. Emma felt very much like they were penguins trying to determine if a killer whale was waiting in the water. Someone had to dive in and check, but that sort of behavior was dangerous and potentially life altering.

#

Aware that no answer would likely be forthcoming, Emma set her head back down and sighed quietly. She didn't know what she wanted from Regina, so she really was in no position to demand to know what Regina wanted from her. The surly brunette was prickly and often times hard to get along with, but she was also passionate and loyal to a fault – both traits that Emma found refreshing after a lifetime of being left behind or cast aside.

She tried so damn hard to be a strong independent person that given the opportunity she was sure she'd fall to pieces. She loved quickly and easily, which forced her to erect barriers to keep herself safe. Henry had squiggled into her heart easily because his sudden appearance did little to shake her self-control. Regina, however, had already tugged the rug out from under her feet. She was certain that, if she let it happen, Regina would consume her.

This had been simpler when her desire for Regina had only been a quick fantasy in the shower. She wasn't equipped to handle her flipflopping emotions, and she had no training either. This was all very new territory – she'd had dalliances over the years, but they'd all been to satisfy physical urges. This thing with Regina was all too emotional and she just couldn't –

"Are you still awake?"

"Yes."

"I think that we ought to spend tomorrow night apart."

Emma took the words immediately as a rejection. She stiffened and nodded. "Yeah, probably for the best. I could go now, if you wanted."

"I just mean," Regina demurred, her fingers tightening so that Emma couldn't escape, "that we are both compromised in our current situation. This is unusual, is it not? I'm merely proposing some distance so that we can think clearly."

"About what we want."

"Yes."

#

Regina woke in the morning to find that her bed was empty and one of her pillows was missing its case. She felt oddly empty despite the fact that being alone was nothing new. But – this was precisely why she wanted some space to think. It was impossible to think of anything but keeping Emma near her when Emma's hands were touching her, Emma's hair was brushing the underside of her chin, and Emma's scent was pervading her nostrils. No, if she was going to think rationally about this, she needed Emma far, far away.

Without Emma around, she would have to make Henry both lunch and breakfast. It had never been a chore in the past, but the thought of doing both now was unappealing. It wasn't because Emma was missing, she assured herself, but that she was doing twice the work. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and pulled herself out of bed. This morning was no worse than any other. She repeated that to herself as she slipped into a robe and cinched it at the waist.

In the kitchen she found two sack lunches sitting on the island. One had KID scrawled sloppily on it, the other REGINA. She opened both and evaluated the contents. Henry's had a sandwich – not as perfectly crafted as she was accustomed, but fairly decent, an apple, and a can of soda. The soda did not belong there, she thought, but as it was Friday, she was willing to let the infraction slide.

She then sorted through her own bag – a sandwich similar to Henry's, a bag of grapes, and a note. She unfolded the note, forehead creasing with curiosity.

_Regina – Ten bucks says you just got up and couldn't wait til lunch to look in your bag. That's okay. Just wanted to say that this is fair trade off, right? You can make him breakfast since I made him lunch. I got the coffee pot set up for you. We'll talk Sunday, okay? – Emma._

#

Emma made it to the station without incident. She was half-expecting that damn dog to show up and taunt her. The peaceful walk did little to clear her thoughts on Regina, so she felt a bit disappointed that nothing extraordinary had occurred. She was just as jumbled as the moment she woke up in Regina's arms and could barely bring herself to leave.

She had to focus on the dog problem, she scolded herself, and not think about Regina every other moment. There were serious things to do and defenseless citizens to protect. Regina could take care of herself – which was in part why she was so attractive, Emma thought. She pressed her fingers to her temples in response. Dog. Not Regina. Dog.

"Hey, Emma," David called. He leaned back in his chair. "I've been thinking about ways we can maybe trap that dog."

"Did you come up with anything?"

"It involves-"

"Lemme stop you there and remind you that we have next to no budget."

His smile wavered. "I'll keep thinking."

"Yeah. Did Clark bring over a copy of the tape?" When he nodded, she moved past him to the computer. Maybe there was something they had missed, she reasoned, and watching a video required so much less effort than chasing a dog through town.

"I already watched it a few times. There's nothing there. The dogs don't wear collars – the terrier is just wearing that bandana."

"Bandana." Emma consulted her memory banks. She had seen a bandana recently, and not on a dog. "David, do you know if there are shifters other than Ruby in town?"

"I guess it's possible." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I wouldn't say no, but I also wouldn't know who they were?"

She focused back in on the screen. "How would you like some pizza for lunch?"

#

Emma fiddled with her phone, conscious of David's eyes on her. She wanted to call Regina, and she needed to, but didn't know how to act. If she acted cool and distant, as if nothing had changed between them, she was risking Regina getting offended. If she let the fondness she felt bleed into her voice, Regina would be content, but David would be curious.

"Are you going to call?"

"Do you have to listen?" She asked miserably.

He gave her a queer look but shrugged. "I mean, I guess not."

"Okay."

"Okay." He hesitated and then nodded. He walked away, casting confused looks over his shoulder.

As soon as he was gone, she let the phone ring. Calling Regina was no big deal, she tried to convince herself. She'd done it dozens of times over the past few years. This was no different than calling to argue about Henry's custody arrangement.

"What part of 'I need space' do you fail to understand?"

Despite Regina's harsh words, Emma detected a hint of a smile. "I just had a question. Nothing – about last night. Well, I mean it's about last night, but not like last night last night."

"Ms. Swan…"

"Where did you get the pizza from?"

"Pizza Parlor."

"Do you have a number?"

"You're really going to eat the same thing two meals in a row?"

"This is official police business," Emma shot back. "So maybe, maybe not."

"You should have made yourself a lunch while you were at it this morning."

"The guy who delivered our pizza might be related to the series of dog related thefts, ma'am. Your assistance in this matter is much appreciated," Emma stated, grinning widely – unaware that though David had walked away, he was still watching the conversation from afar.

"Good luck with your capers, Ms. Swan."

#

"So."

Emma tucked her phone away and schooled her face as blank as she could. Still, she was nowhere near Regina's level of self-control. She was still giddy from just a simple phone call with the brunette and her lips twitched up at the corners. She wished she weren't so transparent, but the stronger she felt, the harder it was to put the emotion away.

"Yeah?"

"Is something going on?"

"With what?" She feigned ignorance and pulled a desk drawer open. There was probably something inside that she needed, so she spent a few minutes rooting through it as if she were on some sort of epic quest for the stapler. He watched her carefully, and she finally added, "With Regina? Don't be ridiculous."

"Snow said-"

"I don't care what Snow said."

"She said Regina looked happy."

Emma's desire to end the conversation faded. "She did? When?"

"She saw you two sleeping together. Well, technically you were asleep, but Regina was awake. She said Regina looked like – well, like me." He leaned against the desk. "I know you're fully grown, so I won't try to tell you what to do-"

"Good. Thanks. I have a lot-"

"But," he continued, "I think you owe it to yourself to see where it's going."

"You're not going to tell me to keep away from her?" Emma searched his steady gaze. "She's done awful things in the past."

"I was born a simple shepherd, Emma. Believe me when I say people are capable of great change." He set his hand on her upper arm and squeezed gently. "I know I don't always listen-"

"You know?" She couldn't help the incredulous tone her words took on. She flushed and looked away.

"If you want to talk about it, I know a thing or two about being bludgeoned over the head with love."

#

"Whoa, nobody said anything about love," Emma responded. Love was too big a concept to even start considering, she thought, and there was no way she loved Regina. Four platonic nights together did not have to mean anything whatsoever. She could admit that there was a fondness for Regina that hadn't existed before, but love? She couldn't admit that much.

"I just meant that-"

"Can we drop it for now?" She begged – she hadn't even figured out how she felt, which meant she was far from ready to discuss anything with anyone. "Let's just focus on this dog thing, okay?"

"Sure." Content to back down, especially when she looked so entirely uncomfortable with the whole situation, he rubbed his stomach. "Can I get my half sausage?"

"Half sausage, half pepperoni, then." She stood abruptly, eager to separate herself for a short time. "I'm going to go – uh – patrol. It's about that time, right?"

He wasn't sure she had a patrol schedule, but he wasn't going to call her on it. "Yes. Seems about that time."

She sped out of the station and practically threw herself into the cruiser. With the door shut, she could breathe without panicking. David was going to tell Snow, she thought, which meant that tomorrow was going to be awkward. She could just imagine the talking to Snow would give her. _Oh, Emma, I thought you were interested in Neal. Are you sure this is really what you should be doing? Did she curse you? We're going to get you through this._ She rolled her eyes.

On the other hand, she reasoned, Snow had been almost too fervently interested in giving Regina credit for deeds done and opportunities for change. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Emma thought. Maybe Snow would surprise her and encourage her to follow her heart. That's what the Enchanted Forest seemed to be all about anyway.


	16. Chapter 16

At lunch time, Regina set the sack lunch on her desk and fished the note out. She read it once more and tried to ignore the happiness that was bubbling in her stomach. Ms. Swan's hastily made meal would not be enough to make her smile, she told herself. Still, her lips quirked upward. Very well, she thought. At least there was no one around to see it.

"Madam Mayor?"

She immediately adopted a scowl and glared at her assistant. He was useful enough, except when it came to keeping Ms. Swan from barging into her office. He also seemed unable to knock himself – perhaps all he need was a lesson in etiquette. She lifted an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

"Mr. Gold is here for his one o'clock."

She snorted. "So tell him to come back at one o'clock."

The poor boy was sweating, she noted. She supposed Rumplestiltskin did have that effect on people. Those unused to his presence were ill at ease with all that came with him – the pressure of his intense magic, the sharp prickle of his gaze, and the unsettling emptiness of his smile. She waved a hand at her assistant.

"Very well. Tell him to come in, but he'd better keep it quick."

He disappeared and moments later she could hear the tell-tale clack of Gold's cane. She set her lunch aside, threw the note into a drawer, and waited for him to sit across from her. He balanced the cane on his fingers and stared at her.

"There's something wrong," he began.

"With?"

"Magic." He leaned forward. She had to say, she preferred him as Mr. Gold, if only so that his eyes once again looked human. He stopped fiddling with his cane which meant, she assumed, that he was serious about this. "There's something wrong with magic, and we're going to fix it."

#

This caught her attention and dragged her mind away from Emma almost immediately. "How do you know?"

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed any of the strange things happening around town." He stared at her and she got the creeping sensation he could see through her. "Wishes coming true, for one."

She paled, but set her lips in a thin line in the hopes that he wouldn't notice the subtle change in her mien. "Don't be ridiculous. Magic here doesn't work that way."

"Apparently it does now," he snapped. "There's been a shift in the balance of the powers that be here. Something is upsetting the natural order."

"I fail to see what a few wishes having been granted-"

"Tell me, Regina… Have you made a wish recently?"

He had seen, she concluded – and subsequently cursed herself for not having better control over her facial features. Her emotional reactions were often quicker than her ability to temper them. "I can't confirm or deny that. None that I've spoken out loud, certainly."

"Ah." He finally drew his gaze away from her face. "The artifacts in my shop are reacting in strange ways. Either we find a way to stop this, or I fear the town will sink into chaos."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"I'm investigating the effects of barrier's break upon our return to Storybrooke. All magic-"

"Comes with a price," she finished. "I am well aware. I still fail to see what you need me for."

"It would be best, I think, if you were to keep an eye on any strange happenings in town." He stood. "Set things right if you can and buy me some time to find the source."

"I can do that," she responded, her mind already flitting through how exactly she was going to keep tabs on the town now that Sydney was incarcerated. She could free him, she supposed, but he wouldn't likely be very pleased with her – or willing to assist her. Besides, she thought, the town still assumed he was responsible for Kathryn's disappearance.

As he passed through her doors, he glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, and dearie? Be careful what you wish for."

#

Emma entered the pizza place and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible – she technically wasn't on duty, she reminded herself, and this was strictly reconnaissance. She was picking up her pizza and didn't even have her cuffs on her. She glanced around, trying to get a sense of the place. It certainly didn't feel like a sinister den of misdeeds – it was warm, smelled great, and there was a chipper girl behind the register who greeted her with a smile.

"Welcome to Pizza Parlor. I'm Olivia. How can I help you?"

Emma tucked her hands into her pockets. "Picking up a pizza."

"Oh, you must be Sheriff Swan."

"Just Emma right now. Lunch break, y'know?" Emma approached the counter and leaned her elbow against it. The girl didn't seem offended as Emma's gaze roved the room, so Emma took everything in before turning back to her. "How much do I owe you?"

"Fifteen forty-three."

"Hey, now that I'm thinking about it," Emma started, digging through her pocket for her wallet. "We were a little short last time we had pizza here – and I'm afraid we stiffed the delivery boy. Any chance he's around?"

"Oh, you must mean Arthur." She glanced over her shoulder. "He's not here right now. He should be back in an hour or so. You could leave his tip here and I'll make sure he gets it."

There was no good way to say, 'I think your delivery boy is a shape shifting dog thief,' so Emma just smiled grimly and threw a twenty onto the counter. "Give him the change, will you?"

"Sure." Olivia's thin fingers moved quickly, transferring the bill from the counter to the till. "It'll just be a moment."

"This is a real nice place," Emma forged onward, intent on making this visit worthwhile. "Who runs it?"

Olivia beamed and pointed to a framed newspaper article on the wall. "Mr. Fagin does."

#

Emma walked to the display and peered in. There was a picture of a rather seedy looking man shaking hands with Regina. He was grinning, but while Regina's eyes were on the camera, his were slanted sideways.

**Underdog Victory  
Sidney Glass**

_When Pizza Parlor reopened last year, few had hope that it would succeed. Most of the ovens were broken, the windows shattered, and the general property in ruin. Gerald Fagin, however, knew that the business was worth saving. Storybrooke, after all, needs its pizza, and Fagin was determined to deliver._

_After a rocky beginning, the orders came flying in faster than Fagin could bake. Fortunately, the neighborhood hurried to his aide – the children of the surrounding households volunteered their time in his kitchens. Payment came in the form of slices of pizza and sodas. From the brink of disaster, Fagin managed to save a failing business and unite a community._

_"He's certainly done wonders with the place," one enthusiast stated. Albert Spencer, known best for his work as the State's Attorney, claims he visits the pizza joint at least twice a month. When asked for comment, he had this to say: "The pizza is fine. His return ought to be sufficient, I would think." This is glowing praise from an otherwise stoic man._

_As of last Friday, the mayor recognized Pizza Parlor as one of the best fast food restaurants in town. This writer went in for a slice and was not disappointed. If you haven't yet sampled Pizza Parlor, do so immediately._

Emma turned at the sound of Olivia's voice and managed a smile. "So are you one of the neighborhood kids?"

She shook her head and slid the pizza box into Emma's hands. "Artie and I live with him. He's not our poppa, but he takes care of us."

#

Emma glanced around once more. Something just didn't feel right to her and she was in the habit of following her gut. Rather than leave she met Olivia's gaze and tried to smile. "Hey, any chance Mr. Fagin is around?"

"He's in his office."

"Think he can spare a moment?"

"I can check."

Olivia practically skipped into the back room. Emma truly hoped she wasn't a part of whatever it was that was going on here. It could be money laundering, she thought, as that would explain the sudden success. But it didn't cover the petty theft. Talking to the owner would hopefully clear up some of her questions.

"He said he has a few minutes, if you're quick." Olivia reappeared. She gestured to the backrooms. "Think you can find it yourself?"

"Finding people is what I'm good at. Thanks for the pizza, kid."

"Thank you for dining at Pizza Parlor," she responded brightly. "We hope you come again soon."

Emma ducked into the backroom and rapped her knuckles on the door labeled MANAGER. When there was no response, she called out and pushed the door open. The man from the picture was huddled over his desk, head bent and posture rather defeated. He didn't strike Emma as a successful businessman. Instead he seemed a moment away from a mental breakdown. His head popped up nervously.

"Ah, Sheriff Swan. Uh – er, what can I do for you this very fine day? Is something wrong with the pizza?"

"I haven't had any yet."

This answer alarmed him – he leapt to his feet and clasped his hands in front of him. His smile was wide, toothy, and disingenuous. The papers he had been studying so arduously were pushed aside – out of her view – and she was hustled outside.

"You'll have to let me know what you think after you've had a slice."

#

Emma returned to the station, brain churning. Something was definitely amiss at Pizza Parlor, but she couldn't put her finger on what. It wasn't the business, she thought, but rather Fagin himself. The man was unnaturally anxious about something. Whatever was bothering him was probably linked somehow to the animal thievery. Still with no evidence and no clear idea of what was happening, she could hardly obtain a warrant – and Regina would really frown on breaking and entering.

She'd just have to do some more investigating, she determined. In the meantime, though, she had a hungry father waiting for his pizza and a long family bonding event the following day. She couldn't muster the energy to be properly excited for whatever Snow had planned. It would, no doubt, be something Snow loved and Emma would bear for the sake of Snow's happiness. She just hoped it didn't involve making cookies, dressing up, or going anywhere. She worked hard enough on weekdays that she just wanted to kick back on weekends.

She bet that she would be able to relax at Regina's. The brunette might have even made her some sort of coffee bright and early on Saturday morning. Emma would spend the morning in bed – maybe watching a movie or television show – and Regina would do a crossword beside her. When Henry woke up, he'd crawl in with them and play his handheld device until Emma began to tickle him – there would be an unspoken pact that they would suddenly turn on Regina, who would look furious at first but then proceed to beat them into giggling submission-

"Em?"

"Huh?"

"You coming inside?"

Emma cleared her fantasy from her mind and stepped past David into the station. She didn't know how long she had been standing outside with her mouth slightly agape, but it was certainly long enough to draw attention.

#

As she sat at the dinner table, Regina lost herself in thought. Henry was telling her about his newest science project – something about decorating a cereal box with information about an ecosphere – but she could barely concentrate. She had wished Emma's problem would never dissipate and with Gold's warning, it was very possible she was the reason Emma still wasn't sleeping well. Which meant Emma's feelings for her, whatever they may be, were fabricated and based upon something that simply wasn't real. Emma didn't need her to sleep – she had just wished it to be so.

"Mom? Everything okay?"

She glanced up at Henry and managed a rather pursed smile. "Yes, dear. Everything's fine – it was just a long day at work. I apologize for my inattention. Tell me again about your project."

For a long moment, he was silent. His eyes roved her face and she was worried that he'd be able to read straight through her façade and determine the real reason for her distraction. To ease his mind, she took a solid bite of the breaded chicken she cooked. Her sudden attention to her meal did make the question fade from his eyes, but his curiosity persisted.

"Is this about Emma?"

"Of course not. Why would anything I'm feeling have to do with Ms. Swan?"

"You used to look like that a lot when she first came to town and you hated her."

"I never hated Ms. Swan. I resented your draw to her, perhaps, but I always enjoyed the challenge she presented."

"So why do you look so mad now?"

"If I'm mad, Henry, it's at myself."

"Are you mad because you scared her away?"

She frowned. "No – I didn't-"

"Then why isn't she here for dinner?"

She swallowed and reached for her water glass. "Because she has her own family as well as ours, Henry."

"But they're our family, too."

#

"I know, Henry. But we don't always have to do everything together."

He sighed and pushed his meal around his plate with his fork. She understood the sentiment and wanted to echo it – but she was supposed to be figuring out her feelings, not commiserating with him. So they both missed Emma's presence in the house. It didn't necessarily mean anything other than Emma had been around a lot and that she was gregarious. Of course it felt empty without her around, Regina concluded, because she took up so much space.

"But it was fun, wasn't it?"

"It was," she conceded. "But she can't be here every waking moment of the day."

"I know…"

From the sudden downward turn of his tone, she determined that there was something deeper on his mind. She set her cutlery down and leaned onto her elbows. "If there's something you want to talk about, I'm more than willing to discuss it with you."

"It kinda felt… I dunno…" He stared up at her and she was reminded of a guilty puppy's expression. He had inherited that from Baelfire, she expected, because the man had wrought a good deal of harm, yet was still in Emma's good graces. He had to have some secret weapon, she concluded, that made Emma forgive and forget. "I just felt like we were kinda just right with it being the three of us. Is that weird?"

"Not at all. Ms. Swan is your mother as much as I am. It's natural you should want her to be consistently in your life."

He felt like she was missing the point and sighed deeply once more. "I guess."

Unwilling to fail him, she forged onward. "If I've misunderstood, you just need to correct me, Henry."

"You look happy when she's here, and it makes the whole house feel better."

#

Henry was nearly certain that Regina wanted Emma around as much as he did – she was just a bit cleverer in concealing it. She'd say things like, oh, it's best for you to have her nearby – or the Sheriff was just dropping something off – but he could read between the lines. They were excuses so that nobody knew how much Regina really wanted Emma in the house. She was used to protecting herself, he figured, and that was alright, but he was her son and she didn't have to hide from him.

He caught her gaze and smiled sadly. "I know I can talk to you and all, but you just never talk to me."

While he waited for his words to sink in – he had learned the subtle manipulation from her – he returned to his half-eaten meal. By the time he looked up, pouting as hard as he could, she had nearly cracked. He could tell from the glimmer in her eye and the twitch of her lips. Just a bit more, he thought, and she'd share with him. He was practically an adult and had been through so much in his meager twelve and a half years that he was just an old man in a kid's body. She could rely on him.

"Sometimes the things I deal with are – a bit more than I would want you to deal with, sweetheart."

He reached across the table, his eyes serious and somber. "You can trust me, Mom."

"I know I can trust you," she responded, placing her hand over his. "But you also have to trust me."

He pulled out of her grasp and resumed picking at his food. That was the problem, he thought. She was always expecting too little of him. He'd understand, even if it was something wild like being in love with Emma. He snorted a bit and ate his vegetables – they were friends now, but love? The thought made him laugh.


	17. Chapter 17

As soon as she was in her room and utterly alone, Emma pulled the stolen pillow case out from the interior of her jacket and laid it across her pillow. She resisted the urge to smell it right away – instead heading to the set of drawers where her pajamas lived. She discarded her jeans and pulled a soft green tank top on, and then could resist no longer. Once more making sure that nobody had snuck in while she was distracted, she curled up in bed and inhaled slowly.

This wasn't going to help her think clearly, but she didn't think she could sleep without something to ease her out of wakefulness. Regina was a crutch, she knew, but she just couldn't bear putting any weight on her injury. She'd heal up eventually, but for now she'd do whatever it took to relieve the ill-feelings. Although, a small niggling voice at the back of her mind murmured, she didn't really want to be able to sleep without Regina.

That was part of the problem, she thought. Regina was some sort of security blanket and Emma had reached an age where such things were frowned upon. She couldn't help that Regina's bed was comfortable, or that Regina's arms fit so nicely around her body. These were factors outside her control. It was Regina's fault, Emma thought. Regina made it too damn easy to sleep with her.

Emma sniffed again. The scent had helped her before, she thought, but now all it did was quiet the jangling of her nerves. Please, she begged. There was no alternative that night. She couldn't go crawling back to Regina's bed, not when the brunette had asked for space. She jammed her eyes shut, counted down from one hundred, and willed herself forcefully to just sleep.

#

Regina stared at the ceiling. This was ridiculous. If she had wished this predicament into existence, she ought to be able to wish it to end. She remained stock still in bed for twenty minutes repeating the phrase: I wish I did not need Ms. Swan to sleep, nor she me. No matter how many times she chanted it silently, she remained awake and disgruntled. All magic came with a price, and apparently wishing for Ms. Swan's company at night cost her a little bit of her sanity. She pulled a pillow over her face and groaned.

She was greatly unused to depending upon others in such an intimate way. As queen, she became quite skilled at delegation of duties in that she trusted her troops to carry out her wishes – but the more important a task was, the more likely she would do it herself. She'd never been afraid of getting her hands dirty – which made this all the more frustrating. There was literally nothing she could do for herself in order to lull herself to sleep. Without Emma, she was doomed to a night of insomnia.

Growling, she reached for her cell phone. This was a moment of weakness, she realized, but it was more proper than simply showing up outside Emma's bedroom. Determined to sleep, she hit dial before she could come up with some sort of legitimate reason for calling in the first place. It rang twice and then Emma's tired voice filled her ears. She tried rather hard not to smile.

"Regina?"

"Ms. Swan. I realize that we had mutually decided to give one another space-"

"Oh be quiet," Emma stated with a small laugh. "Tell yourself whatever excuses you have to. I'm glad you called."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"Tell me about your day," Emma cut in.

#

"It was rather – bland," Regina began. This was the most domestic conversation she'd had in a good many years, and yet it made her heart hammer as if they were discussing something private rather than the pedestrian events of her Friday. She guided Emma through the mundane details of everything but her meeting with Gold – afraid that this would certainly lead to a discussion of their unique situation. "And yours?"

"There's something fishy going on at Pizza Parlor."

"That's the anchovies, dear."

"Oh, haha. I didn't realize you were such a comedienne." Emma clutched the phone to her ear and closed her eyes. She could pretend that way that Regina was right next to her, rather than several miles away. "But seriously. I went back to talk to the guy who runs the joint and he was really antsy about something he didn't want me looking into. I wish you coulda seen how shifty the whole thing was."

Regina winced. "Perhaps you should rethink wishing for things right now."

"Why's that?"

"Mr. Gold came to see me," Regina responded. "I'm not sure I want to go into details just yet, but there's something amiss with the magic in town – some wishes have come true. The results don't seem catastrophic yet, but that might only be because nobody has realized what's happening. I don't know which wishes have come true, or which will in the future, but you should watch how you phrase things. Please."

"I bet Henry wished for pizza yesterday. That's why you let him have a day early."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Leave it to you to make light of a serious situation."

"It's called being optimistic, and it runs in my family."

"I thought it skipped a generation."

Emma flushed, but couldn't stop the words from tumbling from her lips, "I grew into it about four days ago."

#

Emma set the phone on the mattress next to her pillow and set it to speakerphone. She settled her cheek against the pillowcase as they talked and tried to ignore how comfortable this was. It wasn't ideal, in that Regina wasn't actually next to her, but it was close enough. It didn't matter what Regina said to her, even, just as long as the brunette kept talking – there was something almost hypnotic about the woman's voice, Emma thought. Something comforting.

"Have you been thinking?" She asked suddenly – before her brain could get ahead of her tongue and warn her that this might not be the best course of action.

"Of course I've been thinking, Ms. Swan. Not all of us have the luxury of turning our brains off at will."

"About…" Emma trailed off, unsure of what to call whatever it was they were supposed to be considering.

"Us?" Regina supplied.

"Yeah. About us. Or whether there could be an us."

"We agreed to talk on Sunday, Ms. Swan."

Emma sighed. "Yeah. But it was worth a shot, wasn't it?"

"Is it truly so miserable sleeping alone?" Regina cringed at the thought of her wish being so potent. If she couldn't undo it soon, she'd have to put her foot down on Sunday. Or, and this was an option she wanted to avoid at all costs, they would have to talk to Gold. He knew about the wishes, after all, so he might know a way to counteract the effects.

Although he did come to her, she thought, in order to contain the effects – which might mean he couldn't fix it either. Ms. Swan might be stuck using her as a teddy bear until death. She tried her hardest to think of that as a bad thing and missed Emma's response to her question. Rather than backtrack and admit she wasn't listening, she changed the subject.

#

"Henry's working on a science project. I thought perhaps you would enjoy assisting him."

Regina thought back to the myriad afternoons she'd spent helping Henry with his letters when he was in first grade – before he'd realized the town was cursed. He had been so very tiny and so very desperate for her attention. That was where she had gone wrong, she thought. He had wanted her, and instead she gave him some picture-perfect version of a mother. They had both known it to be hollow, and she knew now how damaging it had been to their relationship.

"Does it involve science?"

"I suppose. But that's his responsibility. He's supposed to decorate a cereal box and I know you are artistically inclined. It just seemed natural for you to help."

"Are you going to be there, too?"

Regina shifted the phone to her other ear. "I could be."

"I think you should be. With just me at the helm, we'll probably end up playing table football in like twenty minutes. You're the focus," Emma murmured. She was slowly but surely falling asleep; she fought to remain awake through the end of the conversation, though. "So yeah, you gotta…"

"Shall I let you sleep?"

"Would you stay on the line?"

"For how long?"

Emma shrugged. "I dunno…"

"Very well," Regina responded, making sure to sigh just loud enough that Emma knew this was a favor and not something she desperately wanted herself. "Next you'll be asking for a lullaby."

"Would you?"

"No."

Emma laughed tiredly. "Would you like one?"

"Don't tell me lullaby singing is another of your hidden, but valueless, talents."

"Oh, no. I've got a pretty awful singing voice, but I just thought I'd offer."

"Go to sleep, Emma."

"Okay, okay." Emma shut her eyes. After a moment of silence, Regina began to hum and Emma fell asleep.

#

Regina sat for a short while listening to Emma's soft inhalations. They were comforting in the same way Henry had found the rumble of the dishwasher comforting when he was three months old. She used to stand in front of it, him in her arms, and sway back and forth until he finally stopped fussing and fell asleep. The white noise helped dull much of her worry about her role in Emma's sleeplessness.

"I might have ruined your life twice over, Ms. Swan. I cannot regret the first, as it gave me Henry – gave us Henry – but this time… My wish may have forced you into wanting a relationship with me when you might be very happy with that big, dumb, loveable oaf as you call him. Or the pirate. I don't know.

"I was aware that I had a certain draw to your presence when you showed up at my door. Perhaps I shouldn't have let you in. Perhaps I shouldn't have enjoyed your arm around my waist, or the snug coziness of my bed as long as you were in it. I should never have wished for your insomnia.

"You want me to think about the possibility of an us, but how can I when your feeling is predicated upon a wish I made for your misery? I have no right to claim a place in your life. I should simply tell you about my wish – but does it make me evil to still, after all of this, want you to want me? Can I have one more night in your arms before I have to break everything?"

She paused and wiped at the tears prickling in her eyes. She wasn't meant to be happy – she had known that for some time now. The world needed a balance of good and evil to function properly and she was the requisite evil. Villains, after all, didn't get happy endings.

#

Emma awoke a few hours later and discovered that it was Regina quietly murmuring that drew her from her sleep. She wondered how long the nearly silent monologue had been going on and knew she had to make her presence known before Regina revealed something she didn't want Emma to actually hear.

"Regina?"

All at once the rambling halted. "Ms. Swan, I thought I told you to go to sleep."

"I did sleep for a bit. I guess it's just not the same without you here, or me there, or whatever." Emma rubbed at her eyes. "I mean, it helps, knowing you're there, but I just – is it too soon to say I really miss you?"

"It's too foolish-" Regina cut herself off and sighed. "We need space, Ms. Swan."

"To think."

"Yes."

"I don't know if I can do more than a night of this. Clutching a pillow to my chest isn't really like clutching you to my chest." Emma's cheeks flared, but she barreled onward. "I'll give you whatever space and time that you need, of course, but I'm just going to put that out there. I'm capable of just sleeping, y'know?"

"I'm not capable of thinking clearly when you're nearby," Regina admitted. "Which is why I need space. Any proximity to you addles my brain."

"I know the feeling." Emma grinned and ran a hand through her hair. "Okay. Well. I know we said Sunday, but any chance we could do this phone thing again tomorrow night?"

Regina ran her finger down the length of her cell phone. She'd left it sitting on the pillow Emma would have been using if Emma were there – and not using her chest instead. "I – would like that."

"Me, too." Emma swallowed awkwardly. "So was there anything you wanted to talk about tonight? I mean, not necessarily about me, or you, or any combination of that, but… you were talking to me before… Wanna try while I'm actually listening?"


	18. Chapter 18

Regina considered the offer. She wondered how much damage would actually be wrought if she spoke her mind. Emma was willing to listen, but she wasn't yet aware of what Regina had to say. Mind jumbled, she looked for the right words to decline without sounding curt or impolite. Emma deserved more than a snappy no, she thought.

It was entirely strange that Ms. Swan had rocketed so far up in her estimation. When it came to those around her, Regina cared little for the feelings and reactions of others – but here she lied, trying to come up with a way to let Emma down easy. She understood Emma's desire for a stronger connection between them – a sharing of trust – but she also was extremely hesitant to open that door. Emma might want more, she thought, and she was certainly not ready to have a bosom buddy.

This was already a bit too much like a slumber party for her comfort. She didn't share her secrets and she didn't let anyone past the outer barriers of her heart. There was too much lurking in the dark shadows of her heart – no matter how much light had recently pierced it. Still, confiding in someone might ease the worry, she argued with herself. A burden was lighter when it was carried by two people. She licked her lips, hating how tempted she was to share this bit of herself with Emma.

No, she told herself, she had to resist the temptation. Opening up was a slippery slope and she had long ago learned that no secret once told to anyone remained a secret for long. She wanted to work through this on her own, first, and then she would face Emma in the morning. With her decision made, she frowned and sighed.

Rather than the gentle denial she was planning, she said, "I might have wished for your insomnia."

#

Emma was quiet a moment. She gnawed on her lower lip, thinking about the implications, and then asked, "But when did the wishes-do-come-true b.s. start?"

"Mr. Gold failed to mention that tidbit of information." Regina pressed her thumb and middle finger against the inner corners of her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Because my sleeping problem started like right after we got here."

"But I might have made it worse and…"

"And?"

Regina stared up at the ceiling. "And your feelings are based upon a fictitious need for my presence."

"That's not true," Emma insisted, but her tone trailed off. It was possible, she supposed, if improbable. But what she felt – it wasn't foreign, or strange. Would she even know if she was in essence cursed to feel a particular way? She wracked her brain for answers, but found none. "So what do we do?"

"We wait for Gold to return with an answer as to why the wishes are coming true."

"So, maybe this is off topic, but why would you wish for my insomnia?"

"It weakens your position in Henry's life."

Emma snorted. "Seriously. Why?"

Regina gritted her teeth and refused to answer. "Good night, Ms. Swan."

Recognizing that she had indeed pushed as far as she could for one evening, Emma yawned and settled back down. "Sure there's nothing else you want to talk about?"

"I'll tell you a story, as my voice seems to lull you asleep."

"Totally does at meetings," Emma joked. She closed her eyes. "This is different, though. And I don't want you worrying about this wish thing, okay? If it was your wish, I'm not unhappy. Your wish made us both happy, right? So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal, Ms. Swan, is that you deserve a choice and I cannot take that from you."

#

"Can I tell you a story? Instead of you telling me one?"

"Could I really stop you?" Regina kept her voice steady, but her hand curled tightly against her pillow. She was tentative about hearing Emma's story, as she was sure it would somehow relate to their current situation and make her feel worse instead of better as Ms. Swan clearly intended. Still, she'd let Emma have a shot.

"If you don't want it…"

"I do."

"When I was seven, there was this pack of second graders who used to follow me around at recess and bully me. They were just a bit bigger than I was and there were four of them to the one of me, so I had to sit there and let them scream at me. The screaming wasn't bad – but then one day one of them figured out that they could hit me."

"And you didn't simply tell an adult."

"If you had my childhood, you'd know that adults weren't really there to help you," Emma replied, her voice tilting up in laughter, though nothing funny had been said.

"What's your point, Ms. Swan?"

"My point is that I was stuck in this situation where every day I was dropped off for school and every day I had to sit through this emotional and physical torture. It was inevitable week after week. But I started thinking – I can let them hit me, or I can find a way to fight back."

Regina nodded. This was the Emma she was accustomed to. "So you learned to fight and beat them?"

"Oh, no. I got my ass handed to me every day for a year."

"I'm afraid I really don't understand."

"It didn't matter that they kept winning. I was fighting for myself – I was stuck in this awful situation but I was doing something about it. I had agency, Regina, and I still do."

#

Emma sat for a few minutes listening to Regina breathe. She was damn tired and on the brink of falling back asleep, but she needed to hear some sort of confirmation from the brunette that the message had been received. It had been an almost painful story to tell, because she could still feel the barbed words prickling her skin. The physical damage had healed, but the emotional trauma was still just a few short jibes under the surface.

While she waited, she counted the cracks in the ceiling and tried to pace her breathing with her heart beat – anything to keep her mind from overthinking things. Regina couldn't know that the story was that important to her, she rationalized, and so might dismiss it. It didn't mean anything, she assured herself. Nothing at all. She bit down on her wrist to keep from breathing too quickly or loudly.

Things had gotten better in the years after she learned to defend herself. She wasn't easy prey any longer, so the bullies had gotten bored and moved onto smaller students who cried more readily. The slurs came from other directions, she thought. They weren't nearly as direct as second graders who lacked tact – teachers made subtle comments about her parents and other students never got very close to her. Being an orphan wasn't contagious, she had complained to no avail.

"I'm still not sure," Regina finally whispered. Her voice was nearly inaudible, but Emma was desperate for any response and so caught the words.

"About?"

"I refuse to take your choice from you, Ms. Swan." Regina cleared her throat. "We will talk on Sunday."

"Yeah, okay…" Emma couldn't quite hide the disappointment from her voice, but at least Regina was willing to talk. That meant there was still a chance, she thought, and she was going to fight for it. That's what she was used to doing, anyway: finding something she wanted and fighting like hell for it.

#

Regina woke with the sun beating down on her face – which was strange as her alarm was scheduled to ring before sunrise. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, yawned, and grabbed her phone. The alarm hadn't gone off because the battery was dead, she deduced. And that was probably a direct result of not hanging up on Ms. Swan. Though she was hours late, she felt fairly rested – and it was Saturday – so she couldn't complain. It didn't sound as though Henry was up, so she still had time to take a hot shower and prep his breakfast.

She wouldn't be seeing Ms. Swan that day, she thought, and that gave her ample opportunity to sort through her feelings, especially after all the information Emma had given her the night before. Thoughts were bumtumbling through her mind, though, and conflicting with one another.

A list would be prudent. She would make a list of all the reasons to date Ms. Swan, and all the reasons to simply walk away. Once it was compiled, she could add points to each reason, and whichever side had the greater balance would be her decision. This made her feel a bit better and less confused, so she swung out of bed and practically floated into the bathroom.

The hot water of the shower sufficed to wake her the rest of the way up. She slid her hands down her body, slathering soap as she went, and then frozen as her fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her thighs. She shouldn't, she reprimanded herself. She was already confused about what she wanted from Ms. Swan and touching herself would only muddy the waters further. Her fingers trembled.

Henry would be up shortly, she tried, but her brain shook the thought away. He wouldn't disturb her in the bathroom. Maybe, she thought, if she could ease the demanding ache, it would be easier to consider Emma from an emotional distance.

#

While her mind was busy warring over what she should or should not do, her fingers slid up her legs and nestled against her clit. This was wrong, she thought but made no effort to stop herself. This was purely a physical release and had nothing to do with her mercurial emotions. She did not think about Emma's arms, or wonder if Emma was strong enough to lift her onto the countertops in the kitchen.

From there, she couldn't stop it - she imagined Emma doing that and then forcefully unbuttoning her slacks. Emma would rake nails down her thighs and press feather-light kisses to her knee caps. She rubbed herself slowly in a circle, picturing Emma's hair mussed from her clenched hand and lust-blown pupils. She could have had this, she thought, if she'd let Emma in. Her strokes became more frantic.

Emma would take her time, she thought, because the blonde woman was petulant and playful. If Regina wanted it quickly, Emma would purposely tease her until she screamed, she thought. That was part of the allure, after all – Emma was the only one who was strong enough to blatantly stand up against her. They were like two mountain goats constantly bashing heads. Her fantasy took a sudden turn as she began to wonder what dominating Emma would be like.

Their coupling would be a struggle, but Regina was practiced in bringing men and women to their knees. If she didn't want to be toyed with, she'd make Emma acquiesce and please her. She was Queen and deserved to have her wishes carried out. She thought about forcing Emma's head between her thighs and slipped a finger inside herself.

When she came, she fell back against the shower wall and sat there panting. She braced herself against the slick surface and tried desperately to catch her breath. It was just once, she told herself, and it didn't mean anything. Despite her intentions, though, it had done little to push Emma from her mind. All she could think about now was what Emma would look like in the throes of passion.

#

"Mom? Why are my eggs burnt?" Henry poked his meal with his fork and let a deep frown scar his face. Emma made better breakfast, that much was true, but he wasn't used to Regina completely botching a meal. She might be sick, he considered, but that was no excuse for her to ruin his eggs.

She glanced up from her own singed food and met his confused gaze. "My apologies, Henry. My mind has been elsewhere."

"Can you make me new ones?"

Nodding, she picked his plate up and carried it back to the stove. Conscious this time of the length of time she had his eggs on the pan, she scrambled them appropriately and slid another batch in front of him. He made a small grunt of approval and began to eat in earnest. Normally the lack of a thank-you would have spurred some sort of reprimand, but Regina's mind had already wandered off once more.

"Mom?"

Drawn back to reality again, she sighed. "Yes, Henry?"

"Can I go down to the park with some of the guys?"

"To do what?"

"I dunno. Hang out?"

"Who'll be there?"

He shrugged. He knew he couldn't tell her how one of the other boys had found a box of magazines in the closet and every boy in the neighborhood was rallying together over the treasure. She'd kill the fun instantly. So, in order to protect the sanctity of his fraternity, he lied.

"Just me and like Pete – maybe Pete's brothers."

Regina recalled the slim, pale boy as the son of a fisherman in the Forest. He was fairly harmless, if a little prone to illness. She couldn't imagine him doing anything to lead Henry down the wrong path so she nodded her assent.

"You must be back by dinner."

"Will Emma be here?"

The hope in his eyes was almost painful and she hated shaking her head no.


	19. Chapter 19

Emma took a hearty bite of her oatmeal as her eyes tracked Snow's course around the kitchen. The brunette was practically singing, albeit rather quietly. The first part of the day had been waking Emma up asininely early for a brisk walk through the town just as the sun peaked over the horizon. Emma and Charming had both been in agreement – there was no reason to be up so early on a Saturday, but Snow was not to be deterred.

There was nothing quite like brisk morning air, she insisted, and it would set them off to a great start for a great family day. Emma had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes. Thankfully, she had slipped into the shower when they returned, which provided her forty minutes of blissful alone time. She wasn't sure when that would happen again, at least until Sunday.

"So, I was thinking that the first thing we could do with our day is decorate the apartment."

Emma searched her mind for the nearest holiday and came up blank. "For what?"

"It's about time we took some family pictures," Snow clarified. "We're finally all together, and there's no deadly threat against our very existences. So why not?"

"I'm not photogenic," Emma tried.

Having none of it, Snow shook her head. "I've already asked Ruby to come over and help."

Emma set her chin on the table and resigned herself to her fate. Having a family came with responsibilities, she thought. She doubted Regina would force her through such torture. There were pictures of Regina and Henry around the manor, but they were mostly candid shots. Posing felt so impersonal and faked, but Snow seemed so deadest that Emma wasn't going to complain – at least not verbally.

"As long as there are no matching sweaters, I guess I can do that."

Snow's smile faltered. "Of course not."

#

Emma wished that Ruby wouldn't send her such pitying looks. The lithe young woman leaned against the wall, a camera resting in one hand and a sad smile pulling on her lips. Emma discretely glared at her until Snow caught her eye.

"Something the matter?"

"Nothing." Emma averted her gaze and smiled at Snow. "Can we just, uh, do this?"

Snow took her hands. "Thank you so much for doing this. I know it might feel a bit strange, but the best way to be a family is to just be one. Right?"

"You're the family expert, not me."

"I know you'd rather be with Regina right now," Snow responded, casting her eyes down and adopting a wounded pose. Emma groaned and stepped closer.

"I promised you family day, and that's what I'm giving you."

"But what's one day? We've missed a lifetime of days." Snow turned her large, woeful eyes on Emma. "I regret every day that I sent you away – I didn't get to hold you for more than a moment, and now you're too big to hold."

"I know things are different than you wanted, but we kinda just have to deal with things as they are." Emma shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware that they had an audience. "Maybe we could talk about this later? As a family?"

Snow beamed. "I'd like that."

Relief filtered through Emma's system. She had little interest in rehashing Snow's decision so that Snow could feel better, but she had even less interest in Ruby overhearing. She stood awkwardly as Snow set a hand on her waist and David threw an arm around her shoulder. Though she was able to muster a smile, she thought it must look pained. When Snow checked the camera after the shot, though, she made no comment about the state of Emma's face – she simply cooed over the picture and gave Ruby her next directions.

#

Regina stared down at her phone. She had a million fake emergencies on the tip of her tongue, but no excuse to use them. She could free Emma from family day with a single dial – but she hesitated. Emma might appreciate the rescue, but that would be overstepping her boundaries. Saving Emma was something the woman's girlfriend might do, Regina reasoned, but not the other mother of her son. She didn't want Emma to get the wrong idea.

Before she could call and perhaps make a mistake, she shoved the cell away and grabbed a pad of paper. At the top, she scrawled two categories in flawless cursive – PROs on the left and CONs on the right.

1. Loyal

2. Hardworking

3. Faithful

She paused, feeling like she were talking about a dog instead of a woman. Even if it felt foolish, she knew she needed this list to be an actual reflection of how she felt. Gritting her teeth, she tried again.

4. Beautiful

5. Arms

6. Potentially great partner

7. Understands my past

8.

There was more, she was sure, but she wanted this to be a well-rounded list, so she flipped to the other side of the paper and nibbled on the rear of the pen. Some of the concerns came a bit quicker than she would have liked.

1. Bullheaded

2. Henry might not understand

3. We disagree

4. Snow White

5. We would never be accepted

6. Henry – if we broke up

7. Could just be a crush

8. Might be my wish

She tapped the pen against the paper and sighed. It was hardly extensive or exhaustive, but her main points were there in front of her. Emma was incredibly alluring and attractive, but the situation was complicated and difficult to navigate. If only, Regina thought, they existed in a vacuum.

#

She set the list aside, cursing how little it had done to straighten out her thoughts, and stared out the window. The sun was shining, but she knew it probably wasn't very warm out. Fall and winter were deceptive – even when the sun was bright, the air was cold. As a child, she'd fallen prey to the thought that because it looked nice, it must be nice, when the opposite was true.

She was getting the feeling that a relationship with Ms. Swan would be much the same – it would look enticing, but whatever developed would be a frigid winter day. She stood, unable to sulk in her own thoughts much longer, and padded down the hall toward Henry's room. She was aware that he was going out sooner or later, but hoped to catch him before he did.

"Henry?"

"Just a second!" There was a series of crashes and clatters behind his door. She was reaching for the handle when he pulled it open and smiled widely. "What's up, Mom?"

"What's going on in there?"

He shrugged. "I was just cleaning my room."

"May I speak with you?"

He flushed. "Uh… sure?"

She stepped past him and took a seat on the edge of his bed. He followed behind her, nerves making his hands fidget. When she was quiet, he cleared his throat and fumbled with the hem of his shirt.

"Henry-"

"I don't know what they told you, but it's probably not true."

"What?"

"This isn't about history?"

"I'm unaware of anything about your history class. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

He smiled in what he hoped was an innocent and benign sort of way. "Nope. It was some of the other guys. You wanted to talk?"

She stored that piece of information away for a later date. "I realize this may be inappropriate for me to discuss with you, but I feel that you should know."

#

"Are you sick?" He clutched at her hand, worry filling his gaze. "Because-"

"I'm not sick, Henry." Although, she thought, an argument could be made to that effect, as normal, sane people did not have silly requited crushes on the daughters of their mortal enemies. As she did have that ailment, she supposed she couldn't be completely healthy. "I am merely – reaching a turning point in our lives."

"Menopause?" He wrinkled his nose. "I mean, I thought that's when ladies got older – and you're still like thirty, right? But maybe because you spent like thirty years in stasis, your body kept going? So you're really like sixty?"

"Henry," she cut in, "I'm not menopausal, but thank you for your concern."

"Oh. Then what's the big deal?"

"The relationship I have with Ms. Swan is complicated, as you well know-"

"Are you guys fighting again? Because I really didn't like that period of my life."

"Henry," she interrupted again and caught his gaze. "If you'd let me finish, I'd tell you. We aren't fighting. We are actually getting along quite well."

"O…kay…?" He tilted his head to the side. "So why is this inappropriate to talk to me about?"

"Because I have developed – feelings for Ms. Swan," Regina finally gritted out. "And because anything that may occur between us will have a direct impact upon your life, I thought it best to get your feedback."

"Feelings," he repeated. "Like… Touchy-feely feelings?"

"Yes."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Like, you'd wanna kiss her feelings?"

Regina sighed. "Yes."

"And you're telling me this… why?"

"You're a part of both our lives, Henry. If something were to happen where things were no longer peaceable between us, you would be in the middle. I cannot make a decision that puts your happiness at risk."

"Mom, I'm pretty much thirteen now," he stated, rounding up and straightening his spine to look taller. "I can take care of myself. I think I can handle a little animosity – 'cause that's where you two started."

#

"So you'd be okay if Ms. Swan and I began to see one another."

He snorted. "Look, Mom, I could go on trying to convince you that, really, I'll be totally fine, but I know you're not going to believe me."

Affronted, she pressed a hand to her chest. "I have no idea what you're implying-"

"Mom. I'm just saying that sometimes you see something good that you want, and then you look for excuses not to have it – because, I dunno, you think you'll break it. But you're not a bull in an antique store. I think you can have nice things."

She stared at him, unsure if she should be offended that he likened to her a wild beast loose in civilization. Realizing that she missing the point of his speech, she focused once more. "Thank you for your feedback."

"Now can I please go outside?" He bounced on the balls of his feet, a mannerism that was so like Emma that Regina's heart beat a bit faster.

It was strange that he wanted to go outside, she thought. He much preferred surfing the internet and reading rather than running about in the bright light of day. He called it homework, but she'd checked his browsing history in the past and he spent more time looking at pictures of fast cars than he did on any sort of scholarly website. Still, she wasn't going to complain about his new-found interest in the outdoors.

"Remember to wear a jacket. The temperature is dropping quickly."

"There's no snow on the ground," he hedged.

"It's still below freezing. Wear a jacket, or stay inside. Your choice." She got to her feet and opened her arms. Obediently, he folded into her hug and remained for a good several seconds before he remembered how old he was and jerked back.

#

Henry sprinted down the street, five minutes late but hoping that there was still something left when he got there. Thankfully most of the other boys were chronically later than he was, so he got to the park and found Pete's older brother sitting atop a cardboard box with only two other boys around him. Henry lifted his hand in greeting and jogged over.

"Hey Markus." His eyes drifted down to the box. "Is this it?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you get 'em?"

Markus balanced his elbows against his knees as he leaned forward. "It was the weirdest thing. So a couple of nights ago Petey and Alf and me were in the backyard with our parents, and there was this shooting star or whatever. Mom, being such a sap, was like, 'Oh, boys, make a wish!' So, y'know, just to spite her, I was thought to myself, 'I wish for a ton of porn.' And then the next morning, this was sitting at the back of my closet."

"You wished and it came true?" Henry's eyes couldn't have stretched any wider.

"Yeah. Next shooting star I see, I'm gonna wish for something better."

Henry didn't want to think about what Markus would deem a better wish. "But why are you giving them away?"

"I can't have a big box of girlie mags in my closet. I already hid my favorites, so I gotta get rid of the rest before I get caught."

Markus stood and opened the box. He gestured for Henry to root through it. Feeling a little strange about the whole situation, but not willing to pass up a golden opportunity, Henry dug in and sorted through the myriad magazines. The tips of his ears turned bright red as he pulled out what looked like a fairly decent selection.

"Good choice," Markus praised. "Nearly kept that one myself."

Henry flushed and nodded his head. Choking on his words, he managed to say thanks before stumbling away. He wished that he'd be able to make it up to his bedroom without Regina catching him.


	20. Chapter 20

His wish was granted when he burst back into 108 Mifflin and the first floor was deserted. Please, please, please, he chanted as he tiptoed towards the staircase. He had to get upstairs, down the hall, and into his room before he was discovered. He listened carefully while he kicked his shoes off to determine where in the house Regina was, but heard nothing. That either meant she was in the backyard or the bathroom, he thought, but he wasn't taking any chances. He slipped the magazine under his shirt, eased up the stairs, and darted for his room.

Safely within his own domain, he first thought to tuck the magazine under his mattress – but that was too obvious. Tucking it into his pajama drawer was also discarded, as was slipping it in his pillow case. He was beginning to understand the issue Markus was facing – he wanted the magazine, but he didn't want to get caught, and there was no good place to keep one, let alone a whole box full.

His eyes landed on his bookcase. He had a large dictionary there that he hadn't touched in years. It was perfect, he determined. He pulled it off the shelf, flipped it open to the M's, and tucked the magazine safely inside. After replacing the book, he dragged his fingertips through the dust, trying to make it look like everything was messed up, not just the portion of the shelf around the dictionary. Satisfied with how sneaky he was, he went to his computer and sighed contentedly.

Later, when Regina was in bed and the house was silent, he'd take a look and see what everyone was talking about. He was awfully glad that the older boy had approved of his selection – what if, he thought, he had chosen something bad? The whole world would have known that he didn't know what he was doing. That would have been the worst ever.

#

Emma shook her game pieces in her hand, wishing hard that she could be anywhere but there – and then, remembering Regina's warning, wanted very much to be somewhere else. Monopoly with Henry was one thing. Sorry! with Snow and David was an entirely different matter. How about a real apology, Emma thought, for sticking her in a dresser as an infant? She didn't bother asking, though, as she'd get woeful platitudes in response. It was for the best, Snow would say, and besides they were together now. That was good enough, right?

She morosely moved a piece around the board four paces and smiled stiffly at Snow. "Your turn."

"You're not having fun." Snow's face drooped. She twisted the tips of her hair between her thumb and forefinger. "If this is really that painful-"

"It's not," Emma responded as quickly as she could and tried to be a bit more enthusiastic about how she moved her piece about. "This is so fun. Family fun. Because it's family fun day."

"Why is she better?"

Emma frowned at Snow's quiet, almost subservient tone. "She's not better. She's – comfortable. It's just different. Like being here's a pair of new work boots – it's functional, but a bit hard on me for the first few wears. And she's – a pair of slippers."

"Being around me is work?"

"You're not listening." Emma stared Snow directly in the eyes. "All I'm saying is that this takes a bit more work because there's more here, okay? Regina and I are fresh and new, y'know? And us – well, there's some stuff to work through. But that's what makes us family."

Snow fidgeted. "You like her because she's easier to deal with?"

"You know Regina. There's nothing about that woman that's easy to deal with," Emma teased, trying to draw Snow out of her jealous funk. "There's just less baggage."

#

Snow grimaced. "What can I do to make you happier?"

"Can't we just let things happen naturally?"

"If we did that, I'd never see you again. I don't get where you get it from, either. Your father and I face our problems – and you run from yours." Snow's lips fastened shut as she realized that she hadn't meant to be so blunt.

Emma barely reacted. She'd heard similar comments from other people in her life and she'd come to understand that this was just an aspect of herself. It hurt, of course, that her mother was slinging her emotional weakness in her face, but she assumed that's what family did to one another. In every household she'd ever been a part of, that seemed true. Pain and family were inextricably tied together, and horribly so as family knew where a person's weakness was.

"I'm not leaving," Emma responded, keeping her voice flat. "I might as well be cursed like the rest of you, 'cause it doesn't seem like I'm going anywhere."

"You'll go to her."

"It's no different than going to my room. Look, the thing is I can't live here much longer. You and David are going to have that new baby and this really – this isn't big enough for a married couple and their grown daughter. And if Henry comes to stay? I'm looking to get my own place."

Snow gaped wordlessly at her for several seconds. "Wha-"

David, who had been quiet for most of the day, cleared his throat and caught Snow's eye. "I think we should table this for now, Emma. Can we talk about it with you later? After Snow processes?"

Emma wanted to scoff – there was nothing to talk about, she thought. It was her decision to move out and nothing they said could change her mind. Still, she wasn't interested in instigating a fight, so she shrugged her shoulders and nodded.

#

Regina considered her list for several long minutes before adding notations. Anything to do with Henry was automatically worth more points than something trivial, like Emma's arms. The blonde did have wonderful biceps, but in the long run Henry's wellbeing was more important. He could claim as much as he wanted that he would be fine in any event, but she knew better. If he was anything like her, he'd bury his hurt for a good long time in an effort to make everyone think he was fine. That hurt would fester into anger – and she never wanted him to feel the same rage that she lived with for most of her life.

The pros garnered thirty points – Emma racked the most points up for understanding her past, and being faithful and loyal. Her sexual fantasy, though tantalizing, wasn't reality and so earned only two points out of the total. In contrast, the cons came to thirty-one. Her concern about it being her wish was tantamount only to what Henry would go through if they broke up. According to this, she thought, she ought to walk away from Emma. It was only logical.

She growled under her breath and crumpled the list up. It was stupid anyway – she didn't need a scrap of paper to determine how she felt. It was too close a decision, anyway, to let it be a controlling factor. Thirty-one to thirty was less convincing than the fifty to one she had been expecting. She pushed away from her desk and walked into the hallway. The light was on in Henry's room, which was surprising.

She knocked and waited for his response before voicing her concern. "Henry, didn't you go to the park?"

"It ended up being lame so I came home to do homework."

She narrowed her eyes. He never did homework until Sunday night – and it was early afternoon on Saturday. "May I come in?"

#

"Sure," he called. He tried to look as nonchalant as possible as his door swung open and Regina walked in. She came to lean against the bookcase and he immediately started to sweat. "What's up?"

She stared at him. "You're doing homework?"

"Got a book report for English and I haven't really finished reading the book yet. I thought I should get on that before it gets to be too late."

This directed her attention to his bookcase and his breath caught in his throat. Her gaze drifted along its contents as she tried to guess which work was his focus for the project. The spines of most books were in tact, though, and she had no idea which was his choice.

"Which book?"

"What's with all the questions?" He scratched the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably, his air of apathy slowly bleeding away. "I've got this totally under control."

She noted the one shelf that was mysteriously less dusty than the others and quite nearly asked him about it. Aware that she probably wouldn't get a truthful or direct answer, she nodded. "I never said you didn't, Henry. I just thought it strange that you'd be doing homework on a Saturday. I'm proud of your proactivity with regards to your academics."

"Yeah, totally."

"Dinner will be in an hour."

"Okay, fine."

"Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale." She stepped closer and pressed her hand to his forehead. She added a bit doubtfully, "You're warm."

"Just stressed about this report," he lied.

"Don't push yourself too hard. Grades are important, but not more so than your health." She glanced once more at the bookcase on her way out. There was something off about that shelf, she determined, but she would investigate later when he wasn't around.

#

"Dinner is great," Emma murmured weakly. Things hadn't been comfortable since her outburst during the game, and dinner was practically frigid. Snow clearly wanted space, but was too dead set on family day to cut it short. Emma knew she had to say something about her plans, but was beginning to realize that she had gone about it in the wrong way.

"Yeah," David agreed. He chewed his steak with a slightly open mouth and Emma cringed when she caught glimpses of his food. "Really, Snow. You outdid yourself."

"It's family dinner. I had thought we could make it a tradition." She seemed to be on the brink of some sort of tantrum so Emma lifted her hands, hoping to placate the other woman.

"I know we're kinda in a rocky place right now, but that doesn't mean we can't still try, right?"

"I don't know. You just want to leave. Doesn't seem much like trying."

Emma was disappointed that Snow's final emotional result was anger, but she sort of understood. After all, she'd spent her childhood hoping that she could have a family – each chance was yanked out from underneath her and she could remember being angry as well. It didn't make it any easier to deal with Snow's tantrum, but at least she could empathize.

"I'm still going to be around," Emma offered. "Just I'll have a place where I can keep my stuff that isn't all over your stuff. It'll be like I'm really your adult daughter – not an adult daughter pretending to be a preteen. Family's not about being in the same house, Snow. I'm not suddenly going to be less your daughter because I move down the street."

David rubbed Snow's arm. "I think you should go to your room, Emma."

"I'm not a kid. I think I just went over this, actually…"

"We need a moment," he clarified.

#

Emma flopped down on her bed and fished her phone out. It was still too early for a verbal conversation, but she bet she could lure Regina into some texting. When, she wondered, had she become so obsessed with Regina's presence in her life? Maybe Snow was right – maybe she was using Regina to avoid her problems, to run away. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. She was allowed to be happy, even with her mother's greatest life-long enemy. Fairytales were strange, she thought and not for the first time.

**Hey – you around?**

_Yes._

**Snow's not too happy with me.** Emma typed. She felt some of the stress of the situation bleeding away and continued. **I told them I was going to move out.**

When Regina didn't answer right away, Emma hoped that she hadn't somehow said the wrong thing. That would be perfect, she thought – she'd found a very comfortable situation with minimal pressure, and she'd found a way to gum everything up. It was an innate talent, she thought. Take something good, add Emma Swan, and watch it fall to pieces.

_My apologies. The roast needed to be removed from the oven._

_You just need to give her time._

Emma's brows knitted together. She tossed her phone from hand to hand before answering. **Why are you on her side?**

_I am not on any side, Ms. Swan. I merely understand that as a parent, the hardest thing to deal with is when your child pulls away – justified or not._

**I'm an adult. It doesn't make any sense for me to live here.**

_Perhaps not, but all she sees is her daughter leaving her once again. She felt that she had to let you go when you are a baby, and I would guess that she feels she needs to fight for you now._


	21. Chapter 21

Emma tossed her phone aside and marched downstairs. Regina had a point – no matter how disconcerting it was to hear Regina empathizing with Snow – and Emma did want some sort of working relationship with both Snow and David. She could hear them talking in low voices and thought she heard a dry sob. She entered the room as loudly as she could to draw their attention and make sure they knew she wasn't sneaking around.

"Can I say something?"

Snow wiped at her eyes and nodded. "But you have to let me say something first."

Oh great, Emma thought. Still, she was willing to be flexible, so she nodded. "Uh, sure."

"I can't close my eyes and pretend that Regina is a saint, or good enough for you," Snow stated. David's hand tightened on her arm. "But I can admit that she's made a number of positive changes. You're an adult, as you keep reminding us, and not the baby I held in my arms thirty years ago. You're capable of making your own choices, even if I disagree with them. I hate that you love her more than you love me. I'm jealous and it turns me into a child. But David's right. I can't let all of this get in the way of the potential of our relationship. We were best friends before the curse broke, and I think we can get that dynamic back with a little bit of work. So are you willing to work with me?"

Emma nodded mutely, unable to verbally work through the sudden onslaught of good feelings attacking her. "That's – that's more than I was expecting."

"I hope you won't move out, Emma."

"That point is non-negotiable," Emma responded, though now she did feel a bit bad about her resolve. Space was good, though. She and Regina needed space to think clearly, so the same should apply to her other relationships as well. Part of the problem, she thought, was just how often she and Snow were in close proximity.

#

At ten til midnight, Emma tied her shoes. She needed a walk, she decided, and some cool night air to clear her head. Things had spiraled in the downward direction after she refused to reconsider moving out. Despite David's assurances, Snow took it as Emma rejecting their family unit – and Emma was too frustrated by Snow's lack of listening that she promptly returned to her room to text Regina until the apartment was quiet.

The woman just didn't listen. She heard a sentence and chose to interpret every word in the exact wrong way. Emma said she wanted to move, and Snow heard that her daughter couldn't stand to live in the same place as her. The problem was in how the communicated, Emma knew, but she was just too tired to care. She'd deal with Snow after she got a full night's sleep, even if that was the next night.

She shut the front door as quietly as she could and traipsed down to the street. The first blast of cold air was bracing but she let the darkness of the night swallow her. She wrapped her arms across her chest as she walked and let her feet take her where they willed. The town was quiet at night, she found, save for the sole bar which bustled until just before dawn. Even fairy tales needed a bit of booze, she thought. She probably could do with a few shots.

Rather than stop inside, though, she bobbed her head to the music that blasted out as she walked past. Her hands migrated to her pockets and she considered pulling her phone out to have a conversation with Regina – but the point became moot as she gradually realized where exactly her feet had taken her. She ought to be disappointed in herself, but rather than chide her lack of self-control, she approached Regina's door and knocked.

#

When Emma didn't call before bed, Regina tried to ignore the feelings swelling up from her gut. She wasn't reliant upon Emma, she told herself, and she wasn't hurt by Emma's failure to follow through on the asked-for phone call. She forced the disappointment back down and focused her attention on her crossword puzzle. She hadn't done one in years, but it wasn't as if she was going to get much sleep. As she thought about a thirteen letter word for lazy, she tapped her toe impatiently. This was not the way she had wanted to spend her evening.

Relief filtered through her at the sound of someone at the door. Finally, she thought, an outlet for her pent up energy. It was after midnight and whoever dared to bother her was going to face the full extent of her wrath. She curled her hands into loose fists as she stalked down to the door. Without bothering to check who was on her porch, she undid the locks and threw the door open.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Her fierce glare softened instantly at seeing Emma staring bashfully across at her.

"Yeah. It's a few minutes after midnight."

"Ms. Swan, we agreed-"

"It's Sunday," Emma stated. "So technically I followed our agreement."

Though Regina was a bit miffed that Emma had found such a loophole, she was too glad to see the blonde to make any sort of sassy comment. Instead she stepped aside and gestured for Emma to come inside. Emma did so gratefully.

"I'd ask what you were doing, but I'm afraid I wouldn't want to know the answer."

Emma bent low to take her shoes off. "I really just went out for a walk to clear my head. And, well, my feet took me here. I hope it's okay…?"

"Yes," Regina replied. She caught the eagerness before it could enter her voice. "I suppose it is."

#

They retired to the living room. The lights were on, so Emma presumed that Regina had been awake when she arrived at the house. There was a half-empty glass of water on the coffee table resting on a coaster and a newspaper folded in half. The pen atop that was uncapped and Emma got the feeling she was interrupting something, even if that something wasn't too terribly important.

"Look, did you want me to come back in the morning?"

"You're already here." Regina made sure to sound as if this was putting her out in some way – she didn't want Emma to think she actually wanted the blonde around. Even with all that had changed between them, she wasn't entirely comfortable letting the blonde behind her barriers. It was somehow easier when they were in bed to bare herself – but out in the house, sitting on the couch several feet apart, she felt the need to protect herself.

"Okay…" Emma toyed with a few strands of her hair and waited patiently for Regina to cap her pen and set the paper aside. "So I've been thinking…"

"As have I."

"Would you like to go first?"

"Not particularly."

"Shit, this is harder than I thought it would be," Emma said after a moment of tense silence. "Could we maybe go to bed and talk about this?"

"We cannot live our lives in a bed, Ms. Swan. In case either of us does wish to pursue something, we would need the basic ability to communicate with one another in a situation that does not involve a mattress."

The words gave Emma an inkling of hope. "So do you? Want to pursue something?"

"I really shouldn't," Regina responded. She reached forward and grabbed her glass from the table. She could feel the anxiety rolling off Emma in waves – but she did love a bit of melodrama, so she took a long sip before finishing.

#

"Come on." Emma's hands curled into fists on her lap. The waiting was driving her mad – she wanted her answer and she didn't like the delay. She wasn't sure her heart could take much more. "Spit it out."

"I have my concerns, Ms. Swan. Have you considered Henry's part in any relationship we might have? What will happen to him if something goes wrong between us? Or if we discover that these feelings are side effects of an ill-thought out wish?"

"I mean, I thought about it?" She flushed. She hadn't thought very hard on anything over the past day or two, other than how very much she wanted live in her own place. "Well, I mean, we're better people than we were when we met, right? I think we could maybe decide now on what would happen if things went bad?"

"Are you suggesting a pre-nuptial agreement?"

"No! Well, sort of? Yes?"

Regina drummed her fingers on her thigh. She hadn't considered such a setup – but it would avoid many of the problems she was worried about. Even if things weren't initially cordial between them after something went wrong, Henry wouldn't be harmed. It didn't dampen her worry about the wish, but it certainly eased the bulk of her anxiety.

"I think that would be acceptable."

"Desirable, even?" Emma smiled hopefully. She balanced her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. "So…?"

"I really shouldn't," Regina repeated. "However, I cannot deny there is – something between us."

"And… that means… what? In terms of an us, I mean."

Regina gritted her teeth. She disliked this airing of her feelings, even if it was only for Emma. "I would like to know your stance before proceeding."

Emma flushed. "I thought my position was pretty clear."

"Well it's not," Regina snapped. She immediately averted her gaze, hoping that Emma wouldn't be able to read the intense emotion swirling in her eyes.

#

"Okay, well, my position is…" Emma shifted uncomfortably. "Here's the thing – I'm not really good with the feelings and stuff – so I'm really sorry if this comes out a jumbled mess, okay? My position is that I haven't felt this comfortable with another person in a long time – and that's kinda really freaking me out. I trusted Neal and look where that got me.

"But maybe it's just the Charming in me or whatever, but I keep hoping that this will work out. That you won't steal a bunch of watches and then let me take the fall for you. I mean, not that exact situation again, but do you get what I'm saying. Like, I don't want you to hurt me.

"I really do trust that you won't. No matter how stupid that is of me, or gullible, or whatever. I trust that you're not gonna rip my heart out – literally or metaphorically. So my position is that I want this. I want you. And if you tell me no, it's going to hurt – but I'd rather you say no now and are happy than say yes to avoid some sort of weird situation. I'll understand. This is – this is really weird, isn't it?

"When the curse broke and all this fairy tale stuff ended up being true, I started thinking that maybe my own Prince Charming or White Knight would ride in and save me from all the shit this dredged up. But it never happened. It was just on me to be good enough – but it was just never – good enough. Hell, even my mother wants another kid. She's glad she has me, but I'm not really what she wanted. With you, though…"

"You're enough," Regina concluded. "Just as you are."

"Yeah," Emma said, her eyes never leaving Regina's. "And that's my position."

#

Emma's gaze shifted around Regina's face, trying to figure out what the brunette was thinking from the subtle shifts in expression. She could tell there was still something holding Regina back from making the decision they both pretty clearly wanted to make. Regina wasn't as explicit, though, Emma thought. Regina had partially stated her own feelings, but had made no effort to state what she wanted. There was a chance that though Regina liked her in some way or another, those feelings weren't strong enough to justify a relationship beyond casual friends and coparents.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself – her thoughts were quite capable of zooming off of their own accord and diving into strange assumptions without her permission. Aware that jumping to conclusions in this situation could only end poorly or in tears, she tried to keep herself in the moment. She closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten. When she opened them again, Regina was still motionless on the other end of the couch. Determined that she wasn't simply going to give up without a fight, Emma scooted across the middle cushion and took Regina's hand in hers.

"If you want to think about this some more, the last thing I want to do is pressure you." This was a lie, Emma thought, but if it meant getting what she wanted, she'd fib through her teeth. She had a sinking feeling in her gut that if she walked away from this moment, there would be no coming back. "Did you want me to leave?"

Regina pulled her hand free and pressed the limb to her chest. "I just need a few minutes."

"Did you need more water?" Without waiting for an answer, Emma grabbed the glass and practically sprinted for the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, she pressed herself against the wall and let her hands shake.


	22. Chapter 22

Regina picked up her crossword puzzle and filled in LACKADAISICAL. She wished that all the problems in her life were like crosswords – there was a definite answer to every question, and no mystery that was unsolvable. Either the word fit, or it didn't. The problem Ms. Swan presented had no easy answer. To hear Ms. Swan talk so ardently about her feelings hadn't been pleasant. Her stomach had curled up tightly and had yet to release.

Things were never as Henry thought they would be – there was no binary, no strictly good or evil, black or white. Ms. Swan had such a strong emotional attachment to her, which was a bit worrisome. Regina knew of her own propensity for loving deeply and could spot the trait in others. Starting something with Emma could end up psychologically damaging to them both. They'd both been used and betrayed by those they had trusted and loved, and that baggage had yet to dissipate.

No matter how at ease she was with Ms. Swan, she couldn't quite move past those simple facts. They were both broken people – and while they had a shot at fixing each other, there was an even greater risk of dealing intense damage, even without malicious intent. She wanted so badly to just say yes and settle into Emma's arms every night for the foreseeable future, but things between them were complicated enough as it was.

The next clue on her list was a six letter word for a wooden boat. Ship was too short, as was canoe. She tapped her pen against the paper and stared at the far wall. Rowboat was too many letters, and she was frustrated to find that she had very few other synonyms readily at her disposal. She set the newspaper down and leaned back against the couch. It was just one more answer that she didn't have.

#

Emma filled the glass of water at the tap and stared out the window into the yard. Henry had a nice home, she thought, one that she could easily picture herself living in as well. It would be nice to move in here – but that sounded crazy. She wasn't even sure Regina wanted to be with her, let alone live with her. She'd find a nice apartment somewhere midway between Snow and Regina, and she'd find a way to split her time.

She couldn't please everyone, but she could keep Snow at least somewhat happy by remaining nearby. The woman just wouldn't listen. Emma tried her hardest to understand where Snow was coming from, but she just didn't understand. Perhaps she might, she considered, if Henry had rejected her advances at forging some sort of relationship. The thing was, though, that despite Snow's perspective, she wasn't trying to reject Snow in any fashion. She needed to find a way to say that she wanted Snow in her life, but that Snow wasn't her life.

Thinking about Snow only increased her anxiety, though, so she shoved the thoughts away and trailed down the hallway to the living room. She'd given Regina ample time to think, she determined, so her returning wouldn't be an interruption. Thankfully Regina didn't look surprised to see her and merely cocked an eyebrow as she set the glass of water on the coffee table. She missed the coaster, flushed, and adjusted so no water mark would develop on Regina's pristine surface.

"Did you conclude anything?"

Regina nodded slowly. "I think I might have…"

Emma hated the way Regina's voice faded away at the end. It sounded wistful and depressing, which didn't give her any sort of good feeling for what was coming next. "Wait. Don't tell me."

"Hm?"

Emma sat beside her, placed a hand on her wrist, and leaned in slowly. This was her last shot, she figured, so she was going to take it. Their lips met.

#

"I can't do this." Regina gently pushed her back. "No matter how wonderful it feels, we cannot act on our base impulses, Ms. Swan."

Emma tried her hardest not to look crushed, but her lips turned down at the corners and she jerked back as if she'd stepped on a tack. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"If we are going to do this, I insist we move slowly. I will not have us tumbling into this like-"

"Like bricks in a dryer," Emma supplied. She flushed. "I guess that was a bit – well, like I said. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

"It confirmed that there is something between us," Regina allowed. The momentary kiss had awoken something in her chest that had long been dormant. She linked their hands, surer now than before that this was what she wanted. "However, we need our agreement in place, and I do believe you should take me out."

"Take you out?"

"Yes. You seem so gung-ho about kissing me and the physical aspects a relationship could offer you, but I need to know you're capable of connecting with me on an emotional and mental level."

Emma swallowed audibly and nodded. "Yeah, totally. I can do that."

"Will you be staying the night?"

"I didn't know if I could…"

"You can, if that's what you desire."

"It is." Emma leaned forward. "But what do you want? That's pretty important, too. If you want me to go, I'll go."

Regina stood and straightened her clothing. She went to the doorway, casting a look over one shoulder. "What I want is to get some sleep, Ms. Swan. I will leave it up to you whether you join me or not."

As she padded up the stairs, she listened to the room behind her in an attempt to determine if Emma would follow her. There was silence at first, and then a chuckle accompanied by the squeaking of her floorboards.

#

Emma accepted the pajamas Regina pressed into her hands. They were silk and much nicer than the flannel she wore around Snow's apartment on Saturday mornings. She expected no less from Regina, though, and made no comment as she took them to the bathroom to change. As she discarded her clothing and slipped into the silk, she glanced along the counter. It felt a bit like snooping, but it wasn't as if she were rooting through the medicine cabinet.

There was a tall bottle of lotion at the edge of the counter. Emma picked it up and examined the label, unwilling to admit that she was stalling. She was a bit afraid that things would be awkward between them – that she'd slip between the covers and it would be like they were strangers once more. Did Regina expect anything from her? She squirted a bit of lotion into her palm and rubbed it over her hands. Did she expect anything from Regina? She couldn't contain her worry that their conversation had somehow altered their dynamic.

What if, she wondered, she wasn't able to sleep again – even with Regina's presence? She had no idea why this might be the case, but her bowels constricted anyway. She stared at herself in the mirror, transfixed and unable to move. She should have waited until morning for this talk. She was forcing herself on Regina, when Regina clearly wasn't as interested as she was. She ought to just go home, before she took an opportunity to make the whole situation much worse.

Her heart thudded against the bottom of her throat. She really did ruin everything. If things were indeed different between them, and she couldn't fall asleep, would she ever rest again? She twisted the faucet controlling the cold water on and splashed her face.

"Ms. Swan? Are you coming?"

#

"Yeah, just gimme a second. I'm… washing my face," Emma invented. She'd splashed water on herself, she reasoned, so it wasn't a complete fabrication. She snagged the nearest hand towel and scrubbed her face dry.

Without further excuse she walked as slowly as possible to the door and pulled it open. Regina was already safely ensconced in the bed. The sheets on the other side were rolled back and waiting for her, but Emma remained in the door way. This did feel strange, she thought. She placed a hand against the doorframe and scratched a nail against the white paint.

"Well?"

"I just – is this weird now? Or am I imagining it?"

"You're making it strange, Ms. Swan." Regina slumped down against the pillows and closed her eyes. "If you're unable to sleep here, you're more than welcome to leave. Lock the door on your way out."

Emma clenched her hands and forced herself to walk to the bed. She slid under the covers, draped an arm over Regina's waist, and snuggled in as she usually would. As soon as Regina's arms were around her, she relaxed considerably – she let her head settle against Regina's chest and her eyes closed.

"Good night, Regina."

"Good night, Emma."

Emma smiled. "Thanks for letting me stay."

"Are we going to sleep or talk?" Regina tried to sound frustrated, but couldn't muster the necessary anger. Her fingers moved in small circles against Emma's back. Talking with Emma when she ought to be sleeping was hardly the worst thing she could imagine.

"Both? Do you talk in your sleep?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Right. Because you'd be asleep." Emma chuckled. Regina enjoyed the gentle rumble against her body. "We could give it a try, and I could tell you in the morning."

"Are you quite through being ridiculous?"

"Probably not," Emma responded, a bit giddy that things between them could feel normal, even in times of flux.

#

"Tell me something about Henry?" Emma whispered her request against Regina's collarbone just in case the brunette had already fallen asleep. The last thing she wanted to be was a pest, but she was curious and not entirely tired. She could sleep, she considered, but she also didn't want to miss a moment of being pressed this close to Regina.

"What do you want to know?" Regina's voice was raspy with sleep, and her eyes were closed – but she seemed willing to talk.

"What's your favorite memory of him?"

Regina was silent for a number of minutes and Emma wondered if she had was asleep. She resisted the urge to repeat her question and settled in to sleep. She inhaled slowly and deeply, letting Regina's scent wash over her. The pillowcase was a shadow of the real thing and she immediately felt more at ease with Regina actually beside her.

"When he was about three years old, he went through a phase where he followed me around the house. He could walk, but he was still rather unsteady. I thought he could use the practice, so I let him tail me from room to room while I cleaned. He chattered at that age about everything and anything. He'd tell me stories – purely nonsense, mind you – and his voice would just fill my large, otherwise empty house. I got so used to hearing his tiny voice right behind me, like some sort of portable radio, that I didn't notice at first when there was silence.

"When I noticed his absence, I can't describe to you how afraid I felt. I was certain he had fallen and hit his head. I retraced my steps and searched the house as quickly as I could. Do you know where I found him?"

"Where?"

"In my closet," Regina said, chuckling. "I had put away my laundry earlier and he had stopped to play dress up. He had put one of my dresses on and was trying to stand in my high heels. He looked so proud when I found him. I asked him what he was doing, and he responded that he wanted to be like Mommy."

#

"When did he… y'know…?"

"Pull away?" Regina supplied. Her fingers skimmed across Emma's back. Her pajamas looked very nice on the blonde, she determined. Had she been tortured, she would have admitted that she appreciated how Ms. Swan dressed, but she also enjoyed when Emma cleaned up. "Around his seventh birthday. It may have been earlier but… I was blind to many things when it came to Henry. I still am."

"Love is like wearing blinders." Emma clutched at Regina, her body betraying what her steady voice sought to hide. "You see what you want to see, but you're not using your peripherals. There are signs sometimes that something's not right – noises just beyond your line of sight, but you keep your eyes straight ahead. Those noises don't matter, right? The one you love couldn't be doing something to hurt you, right?"

"Right," Regina demurred. Her mind flickered briefly to her mother and she dug her fingers into Emma's back. Though Emma's metaphor was a bit jumbled and inexact, she understood what Emma was trying to get at. "It only makes the hurt that much more intense."

Emma nodded slowly. "I just want you to know – I won't ever hurt you on purpose. I do a lot of stuff without thinking and I act on my instincts, and sometimes – well most of the time – it really gets me into trouble. But I don't want to hurt you."

"Ms. Swan-"

"You don't have to say anything. I know it's one of those – you'll believe it when you see it sort of deals. I can't promise I won't hurt you. But I'm really going to try. I want this to work. Like really badly. This – whatever this is – is the one thing in my life right now that sorta makes sense. So I'm going to trust that you won't hurt me, either."


	23. Chapter 23

"You need to sleep," Regina murmured. She felt strange listening to Emma so openly profess that sort of emotional blather. She was used to Emma being as guarded as she was – but confession had seemingly lifted a weight from Emma's shoulders. The blonde was completely content to cuddle beside her and let the pains of the day drain away.

"So do you," Emma countered. "Yet we're both awake."

"I blame you."

"Don't you always?"

"Only when it's your fault."

"Isn't it always?"

Regina smirked and let her hand resume its slow trip around Emma's back. It was getting easier to simply feel at ease and accept that she felt at ease with Emma this close to her. She'd never gotten to have Daniel like this. There were desperate, passionate embraces, but never quiet moments where she was content just to be with him. They would have gotten there, she knew, if Cora hadn't intervened. He had broad shoulders, she remembered, so she would probably have been in Emma's position. Unconsciously, her fingers slid along Emma's shoulders.

"Care to share?"

"I was remembering."

"Can I ask what?"

"Daniel."

"Is it – would it be weird for me to ask about him?"

"Would you tell me more about your affiliation with Neal?"

"Affiliation." Emma snorted. "You like making things sound clinical, huh?"

"You're stalling."

"I'd tell you whatever you wanted to know, but isn't it considered bad form to talk about exes this early in a-" Emma halted abruptly, flushed, and pressed her cheek back down to Regina's chest. They had agreed to try, but she had no idea if this qualified as a romantic relationship. Regina's silence did little to sooth her fears, so she cleared her throat. "But yeah. Open book. Sort of. Yes."

"I was trying to remember what it felt like to be in his arms."

#

Emma remembered what it felt like to be cradled in Neal's arms. She had been young, she thought, and he seemed to have everything so together. She had curled into his grasp and felt so incredibly at home because no matter how much confusion was jangling between her ears, and how little she trusted herself, he was strong and he would keep her safe. Though she had grown a great deal since he had last held her while she slept, she realized she was still in the same sort of position.

Life had thrown her another curveball and she was less sure of what she was doing than ever. After twenty eight years, she went from being utterly alone to having more family than she knew what to do with. Her entire sense of self had been tilted on an axis and she was struggling to figure out not only who this made her, but how her new self was supposed to interact with every other person in town. But, she thought, she wasn't the only one going through a period of extreme change. She tugged out of Regina's arms and flopped onto her back.

"Come on."

"What are you doing?"

"Come on," she repeated. She stretched her hands a few times until Regina reluctantly leaned toward her. Once Regina was within hugging distance, Emma pulled her down and waited for Regina to settle more comfortably against her chest. She hoped her heart wasn't hammering too loudly – she wanted Regina to get the same experience she'd gotten – the one Regina had missed out on with her first love.

Regina latched onto her lightly at first, as if testing to make sure Emma was real beneath her and wouldn't collapse under her weight. Emma's hand was warm against her side, and Emma's chest rose and fell steadily under her. This was indeed real, she thought.

#

It was another ten minutes before Regina spoke again. She was on the brink of sleep and just brave enough to voice her thoughts. It was a bit worrisome actually speaking to Emma while Emma was awake. Midnight confessions to an unconscious blonde was one thing, but allowing Emma to hear without prompting was another.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah." Emma couldn't put into words that she was enjoying holding Regina too much to fall asleep just yet. She balked at being Storybrooke's Savior, but she was really getting into being Regina's protector. As much as she liked the warmth of Regina's embrace, she loved the firm weight of Regina pressed against her. She slid her hand under Regina's shirt and rubbed Regina's back. Regina let out a contented sigh and Emma felt more powerful than she had in years. She had quite nearly made the other woman purr, she thought. "What's up?"

"I was positive that Daniel was my only chance at being happy – for a long time, I was certain that I was doomed to a life of unhappiness. Chances at happiness were offered to me, but I declined – I had spent so much time utterly aware that I didn't deserve anything good that I was too afraid to accept anything potentially positive into my life. Everything I loved was eventually crushed, by my own hand or by others.

"It took Henry to show me that I could have good in my life – that I was deserving of something more than being crushed underfoot by those around me. I could be happy," Regina whispered, her voice faltering a bit at the end. "And then you arrived, and you stole that light from my life. I started wondering if I had been wrong. Perhaps there really was nothing in this life for me but darkness."

"Shit, Regina, I didn't know-"

"You took him from me," Regina cut back in, "and then you gave him back."

#

"I shouldn't have taken him in the first place." Emma grimaced. Her fingers danced along the notches of Regina's spine. She wondered if Regina had always been this thin, or of she'd lost weight after the worry of getting Henry out of Pan's grasp. She hadn't noticed any significant decrease in Regina's diet – but then again, she wasn't exactly paying attention.

"No, you shouldn't have. However, it's hard to remain angry over a past grievance that has been rectified."

"Do you ever turn off?" Emma tickled Regina's sides, hoping that the stoic brunette was vulnerable to the silly action. All she got in response was a bland stare so she sighed and resumed exploring the expanse of Regina's back.

"I was not aware I was turned on."

Emma smiled crookedly. "I have that effect on people."

Regina huffed. As a petty revenge, she lifted a hand and ghosted her fingers along Emma's neck, just behind Emma's ear. After watching Emma and Henry tussle, she'd discovered there were a number of weak points on Emma's body – the squeal of laughter from the woman beneath her was proof she'd correctly pinpointed one.

"That's so not fair."

"What's not fair?" She twisted her fingers again and Emma panted for air between what looked to be painful guffaws.

"You're not ticklish, so you shouldn't be able to tickle me. It's in the Geneva Convention. Look it up."

"Who said I wasn't ticklish?"

"I totally tickled your sides." Emma did it again to prove her point. "Not ticklish. Disqualifies you entirely from any tickle battle by reason of invincibility."

"My sides are not ticklish, Ms. Swan, but I am ticklish."

Emma's cheeks flooded with color. She wasn't sure if this was an invitation to explore Regina's body to find that spot, or simply a miscommunication. She licked her lips, indecision staying her fingers.

#

Unwilling to simply risk their tenuous peace, especially after agreeing to go slowly, Emma cleared her throat. "Was that – can I…?"

"Hm?" Regina turned her face up. It was too dark to spot the brilliant flare of color on Emma's cheeks, but she had a fairly good idea of what was happening from the sudden moisture on Emma's hands. The thought that she could have such an intense effect was all at once tantalizing and fear inducing. Power corrupted, she thought, and she didn't want to have it over Emma.

"Invitation?"

"What?"

Emma gnawed on her lower lip and splayed her hand against Regina's back. "Was that an invitation to, y'know, find the spot? I promise to behave."

Regina's heart rate increased – she hadn't meant to sound so – sensual was the word, she decided. Emma brought that out in her. She didn't try to be flirtatious, but around Emma, everything had a double meaning. She imagined that it wouldn't be too bad to have Emma's fingers gently moving around her body, but she also valued the safety that her secret bought her. If Emma didn't know where she was ticklish, that information couldn't be used against her.

"Sorry," Emma eventually said. "I made things weird."

"No, you didn't," Regina countered.

"Forget I said anything, okay? We agreed on slow, and we're gonna go slow."

"You may."

Emma stared up at the ceiling, not sure if she truly trusted her ears. "I may?"

Regina shifted uncomfortably. She hated repeating herself, especially when the content of her words made her feel in any way vulnerable. She took a short soothing breath and reminded herself that she wasn't saying this to just anyone – this was Ms. Swan beneath her, and they were safely tucked away in the sanctuary of her bedroom.

"You may touch me."

#

Emma lifted herself up and eased Regina onto the mattress. Regina remained on her back, perfectly still, and watched the blonde loom over her. They maintained eye contact for several long seconds before Emma swung a leg over Regina and straddled her abdomen. Necks were ticklish, Emma determined, so that was where she wanted to start. Her lower lip slipped between her teeth as her finger tips made contact with the soft skin just below Regina's jaw. Regina was silent. She put more pressure behind her touch and dragged her fingers up behind Regina's ears.

"Not there," Regina said, her voice coming out a strained rasp. Her hands were fisted in the sheets, but Emma couldn't see that far.

Emma continued lower. She followed the neckline of Regina's shirt and rubbed the skin over Regina's collarbone. She paused, taking her time exploring the small divot of Regina's clavicle. Touching beneath the shirt was probably forbidden territory, at least for now, so she shifted her hands to the inner portion of Regina's elbow. Joints were sensitive, after all, and it was plausible that Regina's was ticklish in an odd area. Her fingers skittered along Regina's skin, but still Regina was unresponsive.

Although she had already ruled out Regina's sides, she couldn't resist pushing Regina's shirt up to the bottom of the other woman's ribcage. She flattened her palm to Regina's stomach and, feeling awfully brave, kissed the patch of skin just above Regina's belly button. That made Regina murmur, but Emma knew it wasn't because it tickled. Conscious not to push her luck, she scooted down Regina's body and picked up Regina's feet. Her nails tickled the bottom of Regina's feet.

Nothing, she noted. She eased her hands up Regina's ankles and pushed the silken material of Regina's pajama pants up so she could reach behind Regina's knees. Finally, Regina tittered, her dark eyes flashing through the darkness. Emma's breath caught in her throat as she realized how she was nestled between the other woman's legs.

#

Emma held her position, hoping that her heart would stop thudding quite so loudly against her ribs. It was absurd, she told herself. They were both fully dressed and had mutually agreed to take their time with the physical aspect of whatever this was. These facts did little to derail the sudden sultry turn of her thoughts. It didn't matter that Regina was completely covered – the brunette was spread before her and she was so damn close to the apex of the other woman's thighs –

"Emma?"

Emma came crashing back to reality. She crawled back up Regina's body, coming to a halt when their bodies were aligned. She held herself aloft by planting her hands on either side of Regina's head. The distance helped her maintain better control over herself and quelled the urge to break her promise.

"Yeah?"

"This does not give you permission to abuse your new knowledge. Are we clear?" Regina's sounded overwhelmed and Emma recognized that she'd pushed far enough for one evening.

She smiled and broke the tension as best she could. "I get it. It's on a knee-d to know basis."

Regina sighed. "Please don't make me regret what was probably a horrible decision."

Emma flopped onto her side and pulled Regina back into her arms. She hoped Regina didn't regret a single moment of their time together and knew she wouldn't ever tickle the other woman. It was a flimsy excuse to touch Regina, and so she cared little about the actual outcome. Still, knowing the other woman wasn't infallible or perfect was a bit of a relief. Emma knew she was herself as far from perfect as a person could get, so this ticklish spot leveled the playing field.

For a moment, she worried that Regina wouldn't be able to relax again, but her anxiety ended when Regina's arms curled around her middle and clutched her close.


	24. Chapter 24

Emma slipped easily into sleep.

Regina, however, lingered in a state of not too unpleasant wakefulness. She liked the feeling of Emma's arms around her, but the position they were in wasn't conducive to her sleeping – she was used to sleeping either flat on her back or curled onto her side. Being basically on her stomach wasn't as comfortable as she might have hoped, and so she remained awake content to be held, but unable to sleep.

This was different, she thought – different but good. She'd rather be sleepless in Emma's arms than fitfully asleep and alone. None of her other bedfellows had ever bothered to hold her. Graham had tried, once, but she'd pushed him out of bed. Henry, she'd told him. He couldn't linger, even for a moment, because every second that passed was a heightened risk that Henry would discover them. She couldn't have that.

Henry discovering Emma in her bed didn't seem like too terrible a fate. She imagined he would be happy rather than mortified. It helped, too, that they were fully dressed. Still, even if Graham was dressed, Henry wouldn't have accepted his presence in her bed. Perhaps it was the subterfuge, she considered. She had snuck Graham in and out. They hadn't dated publically and nobody was supposed to know. He was a physical release and nothing more.

That's what made Emma different. She wanted to be seen out and about with Emma beside her. She refused to put the cart before the horse with Emma – they would do things slowly and they would do things right. She looked forward to the date Emma would put together for her, even if she was a bit anxious about spending several hours with Emma while not in bed or curled together. That would be the real test – if they could get along when seated several feet apart at a table.

#

Emma shifted and yawned. It was still dark, which meant it was still time for sleep, but there was something missing – Regina was no longer cuddled up on her chest. She wondered if she had been a bad pillow, or if she'd pushed the woman away during the night. She certainly hoped not. She just wanted Regina to experience being held like that – so maybe the brunette would understand why Emma enjoyed it so very much. She set a hand on the bedspread beside her and moved it slowly around until it contacted Regina's back.

The other woman was a foot or so away, curled up on one side with her knees almost to her chest. Emma rubbed Regina's back while she considered her options: she could go back to sleep, or she could spoon up behind Regina and hope that it was her grasp that annoyed Regina, but the position. If it was her grasp, she wasn't sure how well they would do in any sort of long term relationship, so rather than wonder about such a small detail, she wiggled over and conformed to the brunette's position.

They were taking it slow, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. It was hard to remember, though, when Regina's rear nestled so perfectly against her groin. As her chest pressed against Regina's back, she could feel her nipples hardening – she willed them silently to ignore how nice Regina smelled, and how close they were currently pressed. She could back off, she thought, but she really didn't want to. Instead she tucked her nose against the base of Regina's neck and closed her eyes.

She'd find out in the morning if this was the wrong choice, but for now she was going to enjoy Regina's proximity. It would be worth the scolding, she thought, to be this close and comfortable, even for just a few hours.

#

Regina blinked slowly, unused to the warm presence just behind her. Emma's arm was nestled between her breasts, and Emma herself was cuddled as close as was physically possible. For a moment, Regina though to shift away; it was warm in the bedroom, and Emma's body heat was making her sweat. Despite the discomfort, she thought it sort of endearing that Emma had followed after her. Henry had always loved being close to her when he was younger, but not even he would put in the effort to snuggle against her if she shifted farther away. The devotion was as cute as it was frightening.

The alarm clock next to her bed blinked out that it was two minutes until six, which meant she could either keep sleeping for another half an hour, or simply get up and get moving. Sunday mornings tended to be big deals, especially with Henry back under her roof. She liked to have a big breakfast ready for him when he finally emerged from his weekend hibernation. He was partial to apple sausage and she had yet to miss making some for him. The difficulty would be easing out of Emma's tight grasp without rousing the slumbering woman.

She wondered what sort of breakfast food Emma might enjoy, and then flushed as she realized that she already included Emma in family plans. Holding her breath, she lifted Emma's arm and scooted off the mattress. Emma mumbled incoherently and then rolled onto her back. Her mouth drooped open and she snoozed onward as if Regina were still next to her. That wouldn't last long, Regina thought, unless Emma's condition had significantly changed. She hated that she hoped it hadn't. This whole mess began because of her misguided wish for Emma to have insomnia, and there she was, wishing it would continue. She felt like she hadn't learned anything.

#

Regina walked slowly from the room, trailing her fingernails along the wall. Don't get too attached, she warned herself. Every relationship had its honeymoon phase where everything felt perfect and neither party could do a thing wrong – but that would wear away and soon Emma would see exactly what she'd stepped into. Using Regina as a sleeping aid was one thing, being with a former Evil Queen entailed much more. She'd make Henry breakfast, she resolved, and she wouldn't spend one more second wondering what Emma would want to eat, or how well Emma was sleeping.

She yanked the refrigerator open and pulled out the carton of eggs. There were only four left, but they would suffice in making both French toast and a small omelet. The omelet would be for her, as Henry wasn't generally in favor of the fresh vegetables she used. If it couldn't be drenched in syrup, it wasn't meant for Sunday breakfast. It was the one morning a week where she relaxed her standards and let him eat as he pleased, so long as he scrubbed his teeth directly after.

"What're we doing?"

"Making breakfast." Regina didn't bother to turn around – she'd heard Emma's slow footsteps in the hall and was prepared for the quiet intrusion. She jumped when Emma's hands slid onto her waist and tugged her back.

"You couldn't have slept in? It's Sunday morning."

"Henry will be expecting his meal-"

"The kid'll sleep, too, unless you're going to tempt him with the delicious scent of waffles."

"French toast."

"Exactly. Let him sleep. Come back to bed."

Regina's heart clenched – this was too domestic and too frightening. She shook her head. "You're welcome to sleep as long as you want, but I have things to accomplish today."

Emma looked a bit wounded by the rejection, but rebounded quickly. "Mind if I keep you company?"

#

Emma hopped up onto the counter and kicked her heels against the cabinets. Regina ignored the action, which was clearly Emma testing her patience, and resumed gathering supplies for breakfast. She set the milk jug down a bit too hard and Emma cleared her throat.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"Is this about the spooning?" Emma moved her hands to her knees – and then shifted again so they were pressed together against her stomach. She lifted a thumb to her lips and bit down on the cuticle. "Okay, so I probably should have given you space when you rolled away last night, but-"

"This isn't about the spooning." Regina fiddled with the oven. She refused to turn around and meet Emma's nervous gaze. "This isn't about anything. I'm making my son breakfast."

"Our son."

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah…"

"How long do you really think this is going to last?" Regina nearly crushed an egg in her fist. She set the delicate ingredient aside and steadied her hands on the counter top. She hadn't wanted to spit out her worries, but Emma's dejected tone was more than she could bear.

"What?"

"We've never gotten along for long, have we?"

"Well…"

"Not even in Neverland. I had to leave when you-"

"Yeah, I'm perfectly aware that I made some bad choices." Emma drummed her fingers against her thighs. "And that we've had a bumpy relationship in the past – but this is so different than anything we've had in the past. This is fresh and new and – well, to be honest, kinda scary."

"I'm not afraid."

"Of course you aren't, because you're Regina Mills, Mother Bear Mayor of a made up town. You don't get scared, you get even."

"Exactly." Regina finally met Emma's gaze. "And it won't be long until you understand what that means."

#

Unwilling to let things go, Emma sighed deeply and loudly. "Regina, look. I was in prison. Don't you think I'm worried that someday you'll think I'm some sort of delinquent? That I'm a bad influence on Henry because I never finished high school and was a transient for five years before finding a job?"

"You were homeless?"

"The Bug doesn't really count, does it? But it's better than the street during winter." Emma shook her head. "I really don't want to talk about this right now, okay? I don't think I'll ever want to talk about it. I'm just saying that neither of us is perfect and we've both had pasts we would much, much, much rather forget. I know you're gonna argue that what we did was totally different, and that your badness was so much badder than mine."

"Worse."

"See?" Emma placed her hands on Regina's shoulders and forced Regina to look at her. "Here's the thing – whether it makes sense or not, I really kinda dig you, okay? And I'm beyond over the moon about getting a chance to prove to you that I can make you happy. But I get it. This is a lot. I'm a lot. I'll – I'm going to go do some stuff, okay? I'd like to see you tonight for dinner, but I'll wait to hear from you. Take some time to just relax. I'm going to get to the bottom of this wish thing once and for all."

"Ms. Swan-"

"Just call me Emma, please." Emma paused in the doorway. "No matter what happens now, I don't think I can go without hearing you say my name."

Regina licked her lips and frowned in an attempt to hide her smile. "Very well. But do your best to stay out of trouble. I won't be around to bail you out should something go awry."

#

Because it was still early, Emma set off for the pizza place. What she was planning on doing wasn't strictly legal, but this town wasn't exactly the pinnacle of American justice. If she could just get inside, though, and see those papers he had been hiding from her – it might give her a hint as to what was happening. Two oddities at once was too much of a coincidence. The dog robberies had to be connected the wishes. Solving one mystery might solve the other and she had more to go off of with the dogs than the wishes.

Pizza Parlor was dark and empty. She tried both front and back door on the off chance someone had forgotten to lock up, but both were fastened tight. Come on, she thought as she put her hand over the handle. She had magic – she should be able to make it do whatever she wanted. So she focused on opening the lock and concentrated as hard as she could. Nothing happened; she altered her desire to wanting the door to open, rather than unlock.

She realized too late what an open-ended thought that was – the door blasted open, nearly flying off its hinges. Shit, she thought. The whole purpose of this visit was to be incognito. She should have brought her lock picking materials with her, but she hadn't expected to end up at Regina's the night before, and she couldn't have predicted breaking into the pizza place that morning. Maybe she could magic it back to normal on her way out.

In any event, she couldn't stand out there bemoaning her wild magic any longer. She moved into the pizzeria and tried the door to the back office. This door, thankfully, was unlocked. She'd been destructive enough already. She flicked the lights on and groaned – Fagin was the most disorganized person she'd ever met. There were haphazard stacks of paper on his desk and some had toppled over onto the floor. It was going to be a long morning.

#

She sifted through the papers in the hopes that something would jump out at her as important. There was a letter from Albert Spencer, a bank statement, two electric bills, and some sort of contract in one pile. After trying to read the first few lines of the contract, her mind wandered and she set it aside. If she had time, she'd go back and try again, but for now she was looking for something more obvious.

The next stack was full of old receipts. She examined those closely to see if there had been any sort of doctoring – which she suspected there might be. If the dogs were bringing in money or valuables, the goods would have to be laundered if Fagin was going to use them. That was assuming, though, that Fagin was going to use them legally.

She scratched her head as each receipt looked fine. She pulled his desk drawers open and pawed through their contents. The man was a packrat. There were tattered wallets, broken remote controls, and all sorts of gears, nuts, and bolts. Nothing of use, she thought, so she picked up Spencer's letter and read the first few lines.

This caught her attention. She leaned back in his chair and tilted her head. So, she thought, Fagin owed Spencer some sort of debt. This was definitely interesting, if not related. The dogs were, after all, bringing Fagin money. It was worth a visit to Spencer's office on the other side of town the next day. He probably wouldn't give her much information directly, but she hoped she could spot his lies and make some deductions.

She slid the letter into her pocket and stood. She didn't have time to go through the financial records in greater detail – as at that moment the front door tinkled and footsteps tapped along the linoleum. She shoved everything back into place, and leapt to her feet.


End file.
